


No one knows (what it's like)

by LillianDeLooney



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (Because I almost forgot Derek is 19 now), Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Human, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Bottom Derek, Consensual Underage Kissing, Consensual Underage Sex, Dead Peter Hale, Depressed Stiles, Depression, Derek Has Issues, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, POV Stiles, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rimming, Romantic Fluff, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Speech Disorders, Stuttering, Top Stiles Stilinski, Violence, Wet Dream, Young Derek, Young Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:57:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 44,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillianDeLooney/pseuds/LillianDeLooney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>12 year old Stiles struggles with his ADHD a lot. After a particularly bad day, he meets the stuttering Derek at the park. They become friends right away, finally having found someone who understands. They continue to have secret meetings for about a year, when suddenly Derek disappears from Stiles’ life. </p><p>Stiles doesn’t take it well, but is able to cope with the loss. Until two years later he loses another person close to him, and then it’s just too much. </p><p>He breaks down.</p><p>If only he knew it is everything he needs to find Derek again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Some Helpfull Information

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the beautiful song ‘Behind blue eyes’ from Limp Bizkit (or the original version from The Who, whichever version you prefer)

Before we start with this story, I would like to provide you with a list of the mental disorders mentioned in this AU. I think it would help with understanding the character’s behavior in different situations and it would probably be a little confusing to read all the terms I used without having a clue what they mean, so.

You can skip this chapter if you want, but I do recommend reading it, for I think it will make the characters more real, so to speak.

*The more complicated disorders won’t be mentioned until around chapter 6 or 7, so you could also choose to read this later on if you want.

*Also, the story mostly goes into ADHD, depression, PTSD, stuttering and panic attacks. The other disorders are related to minor characters.

*IMPORTANT: If by any chance the information listed below is wrong and/or insulting to any of you, PLEASE don't be scared to let me know so I can change it! Thank you!

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ ADHD _

Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is a chronic disorder, beginning in childhood (ages 4-18), characterized by some combination of hyperactivity, impulsivity, and/or inattention. These symptoms are present in the affected child to such a degree that they significantly interfere in at least two areas of the child's life, like at home or in a classroom. These symptoms are also in excess of what one would expect for the child's age and developmental level. ADHD is a disorder that can be treated safely and with good efficacy. If left untreated, it carries significant morbidity, including an increased risk of substance abuse in adolescents.

_ Asperger Syndrome _

Asperger syndrome is a form of autism, which is a lifelong disability that affects how a person makes sense of the world, processes information and relates to other people. Autism is often described as a 'spectrum disorder' because the condition affects people in many different ways and to varying degrees. Asperger syndrome is mostly a 'hidden disability'. This means that you can't tell that someone has the condition from their outward appearance. People with the condition have difficulties in three main areas. They are:

social communication

social interaction

social imagination.

While there are similarities with autism, people with Asperger syndrome have fewer problems with speaking and are often of average, or above average, intelligence. They do not usually have the accompanying learning disabilities associated with autism, but they may have specific learning difficulties. These may include dyslexia and dyspraxia or other conditions such as attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and epilepsy.

_ Auditory Hallucinations _

Auditory hallucinations are false perceptions of hearing sounds (voices, music, etc.) without any real sensory stimuli. Auditory hallucinations have been reported in those suffering from epilepsy, brain tumors, migraines, dementia, Alzheimer's disease, Lewy body dementia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, and Parkinson's disease. These hallucinations have also been known to be induced by drugs such as cocaine and amphetamines. Perhaps most surprisingly, auditory hallucinations have been reported in approximately 15% of people with no mental or physical health problems whatsoever. The most common condition associated with auditory hallucinations, however, is schizophrenia, with a reported 70% of schizophrenic patients experiencing them.

_ Claustrophobia _

Claustrophobia is an anxiety disorder characterized by irrational fear of enclosed or small spaces. People with claustrophobia often describe it as feeling trapped without an exit or way out. Claustrophobia involves emotional and physical reactions to triggering situations. The fear of claustrophobia may be intense, but treatment can help manage or overcome it.

_ Depression _

An illness that involves the body, mood, and thoughts and that affects the way a person eats, sleeps, feels about himself or herself, and thinks about things. Depression is not the same as a passing blue mood. It is not a sign of personal weakness or a condition that can be wished away. People with depression cannot merely 'pull themselves together' and get better. Without treatment, symptoms can last for weeks, months, or years. Appropriate treatment, however, can help most people with depression. The signs and symptoms of depression include loss of interest in activities that were once interesting or enjoyable, including sex; loss of appetite, with weight loss, or overeating, with weight gain; loss of emotional expression (flat affect); a persistently sad, anxious, or empty mood; feelings of hopelessness, pessimism, guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness; social withdrawal; unusual fatigue, low energy level, a feeling of being slowed down; sleep disturbance and insomnia, and thoughts of death or suicide or suicide attempts. The principal types of depression are called major depression, dysthymia, and bipolar disease (manic-depressive disease).

_ Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) _

Dissociative identity disorder (DID), previously referred to as multiple personality disorder, is a dissociative disorder involving a disturbance of identity in which two or more separate and distinct personality states (or identities) control an individual's behavior at different times. When under the control of one identity, a person is usually unable to remember some of the events that occurred while other personalities were in control. The different identities, referred to as alters, may exhibit differences in speech, mannerisms, attitudes, thoughts and gender orientation. The alters may even present physical differences, such as allergies, right-or-left handedness or the need for eyeglass prescriptions. These differences between alters are often quite striking.

A person living with DID may have as few as two alters or as many as 100. The average number is about 10. Often alters are stable over time, continuing to play specific roles in the person's life for years. Some alters may harbor aggressive tendencies, directed toward individuals in the person's environment or toward other alters within the person.

_ Gilles de la Tourette Syndrome _

Gilles de la Tourette syndrome is a condition that causes a person to make repeated, quick movements or sounds that they cannot control. The condition is commonly called Tourette syndrome.

Symptoms of Tourette syndrome is often first noticed during childhood, between ages 7 and 10. Most children with Tourette syndrome also have other medical problems. These can include attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), impulse control disorder, or depression. The most common first symptom is a tic of the face. Other tics may follow. A tic is a sudden, fast, repeated movement or sound. It's not totally out of your control- it's more like the compulsion is a really strong itch, and doing whatever the compulsion is is the only way to scratch it. You can go through behavioral therapy to help learn how to ignore it, but it's very difficult. Symptoms of Tourette syndrome can range from tiny, minor movements (such as grunts, sniffling, or coughing) to constant movements and sounds that cannot be controlled.

Different types of tics can include things like arm thrusting, eye blinking, kicking, shoulder shrugging or repeated throat clearing. There are also mental tics- more like OCD though not exactly. For instance, you might have a tic that every time you pass over a line on a soccer field you must go back over and do it again 5 times.Tics may occur many times a day. They tend to improve or get worse at different times. The tics may change with time. Symptoms usually get worse before the mid-teen years. Contrary to popular belief, only a small number of patients use curse words or other inappropriate words or phrases (coprolalia).

Tourette syndrome is different from OCD. People with OCD feel as though they have to do the behaviors or else something terrible is going to happen. Sometimes a person can have both Tourette syndrome and OCD.

_ OCD _

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) is a disorder of the brain and behavior. OCD causes severe anxiety in those affected. OCD involves both [obsessions and compulsions](http://www.ocfoundation.org/O_C.aspx) that take a lot of time and get in the way of important activities the person values. Here is one way to think about what having OCD is like:  
  
Imagine that your mind got stuck

                on a certain thought or image...  
  
Then this thought or image got replayed in your mind

                  over and

                                   over again

                                                      no matter what you did…  
  
You don’t want these thoughts — it feels like an avalanche…  
  
Along with the thoughts come intense feelings of anxiety…  
  
Anxiety is your brain’s warning system.  When you feel anxious, it feels like you are in danger.  Anxiety is an emotion that tells you to respond, react, protect yourself, DO SOMETHING! On the one hand, you might recognize that the fear doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem reasonable, yet it still feels very real, intense, and true… Why would your brain lie? Why would you have these feelings if they weren’t true? Feelings don’t lie…  Do they? Unfortunately, if you have OCD, they do lie.  If you have OCD, the warning system in your brain is not working correctly.  Your brain is telling you that you are in danger when you are not.

_ Panic attack _

A panic attack is a rush of intense psychological and physical symptoms. These symptoms of panic can be frightening and happen suddenly, often for no clear reason. Panic attacks usually last between five and 20 minutes, and although it may feel as though you are in serious trouble, they aren't dangerous and shouldn't cause any physical harm. It is unlikely you will be admitted to hospital if you have a panic attack. You may feel an overwhelming sense of fear and a sense of unreality, as if you’re detached from the world around you.

As well as psychological symptoms, you may also experience physical symptoms of panic, such as a sensation that your heart is beating irregularly (palpitations), sweating , trembling, shortness of breath, a choking sensation, chest pain or feeling sick. The physical symptoms of a panic attack are caused by your body going into "fight or flight" mode in response to something you think is a threat. As your body tries to take in more oxygen your breathing quickens. Your body also releases hormones, such as adrenaline, causing your heart to beat faster and your muscles to tense up.

_ PTSD _

Though it may seem like a relatively simple concept, trauma—a powerful experience that may have long-lasting effects—has not always been defined the same. Scientists continue to study experiences of trauma in hopes of finding better treatments. One particular type of trauma is known as posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

PTSD can affect many different people, from survivors of rape and survivors of natural disasters to military service men and women. Roughly 10 percent of women and 5 percent of men are diagnosed with PTSD in their lifetimes, and many others will experience some adverse effects from trauma at some point in their lives. According to the National institute of Mental Health (NIMH), about 1 in 30 adults in the U.S. suffer from PTSD in a given year—and that risk is much higher in veterans of war.

Not all “traumatic” events meet the clinical standards for trauma. The loss of a loved one or the limitations resulting from an illness may cause trauma but the shock of such events is not in itself abnormal. PTSD includes both an event that threatens injury to self or others and a response to those events that involves persistent fear, helplessness or horror.

Recent scientific understanding shows that experiencing traumatic events can change the way our brains function. Especially with severe or repeated exposure, the brain can be affected in such a way that makes a person feel like the event is happening again and again. Repeated experience of the traumatic event can prevent healing and keep a person stuck in a pattern that may induce anxiety, sleeplessness, anger or an increased possibility of substance abuse.

_ Stuttering _

Stutteringaffects the fluency of speech. It begins during childhood and, in some cases, lasts throughout life. The disorder is characterized by disruptions in the production of speech sounds, also called "disfluencies." Most people produce brief disfluencies from time to time. For instance, some words are repeated and others are preceded by "um" or "uh." Disfluencies are not necessarily a problem; however, they can impede communication when a person produces too many of them.

In most cases, stuttering has an impact on at least some daily activities. The specific activities that a person finds challenging to perform vary across individuals. For some people, communication difficulties only happen during specific activities, for example, talking on the telephone or talking before large groups. For most others, however, communication difficulties occur across a number of activities at home, school, or work. Some people may limit their participation in certain activities. Such "participation restrictions" often occur because the person is concerned about how others might react to disfluent speech. Other people may try to hide their disfluent speech from others by rearranging the words in their sentence (circumlocution), pretending to forget what they wanted to say, or declining to speak. Other people may find that they are excluded from participating in certain activities because of stuttering. Clearly, the impact of stuttering on daily life can be affected by how the person and others react to the disorder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to point out that people with one of these mental disorders don’t necessarily end up in a mental institution like the characters in this story. Usually they only end up there if they are a serious threat to themselves or others.
> 
> I promise to treat these mental disorders with respect and care, but if there is anything that makes you feel like I don’t or even makes you feel uncomfortable, please don’t be afraid to tell me so I can fix it!
> 
> Alright, so now all of that is out of the way, let’s dive into the world of this (hopefully) amazing story, shall we?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has had a rough day when he meets Derek for the first time at the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Just so you know, the first few chapters of this story take place when Stiles is 12 and Derek 15. After that, when Stiles is about 16, the actual plot will kick in and the mental disorders will come up. The chapters leading up to that will vary between angst/drama and tooth-rotting fluff.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

When Stiles comes home from his first day as a 7th grader, he’s seconds away from bursting into tears. He closes the front door behind him, toeing off his shoes and dumping his bag beside them under the coat rack in the hall, throwing his jacket on top of it.

He balls his hands into fists, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to try and calm himself. When he doesn’t feel the need to scream anymore, he opens his eyes again. Stiles grits his teeth as he looks between the stairs at the other end of the hall and the open kitchen door. He’s sure his mom is in the kitchen, waiting for him, but he doesn’t really want to talk right now. He isn’t sure if he’ll be able to reach the stairs and disappear in his bedroom before his mom notices him, though.

He decides to take the chance, padding down the hall on socked feet. His feet is on the bottom step when he hears the creak of the kitchen door as it opens wider.

“Hey, I thought I heard something”, his mother says cheerily. “Aren’t I getting a hello today?”

Stiles curses internally, bouncing his leg on the stairs and clearing his throat.

“Uhm, hi?” He tries, not looking back at her, silently praying she’ll just let him go upstairs.

But of course he’s not that lucky.

“Stiles…”

Her tone is stern and he knows he has no other choice than to face her now. He slowly turns around, keeping his head down in an attempt to shield his blood-shed eyes from her.

But again, he’s not that lucky.

He can hear his mother walk his way, crouching in front of him and gently tilting his chin up with a finger to look him in the eyes.

“Honey what happened?”

He has to bite his bottom lip to keep it from wobbling too much, averting his eyes again. He is _not_ going to cry.

“Hey, talk to me sweetie.”

His mom’s gentleness is just too much for him right now and he feels the tears escape, rolling down his cheeks. He lets his head fall onto her shoulder, throwing his arms around her neck and holding tight. She hugs him back just as tightly.

“Oh Stiles…”

Despite his age – he is twelve, he isn’t a _baby_ anymore – she lifts him up and carries him to the living room, sitting down on the couch with Stiles in her lap. She rubs his back in slow, soothing circles, waiting for his sobs to slow down.

When his crying is reduced to sniffling, she plants a soft kiss to his forehead. She doesn’t say anything, giving him the freedom to choose whether to talk or not. He has to admit he kind of does, now.

“I had a fight at school” he murmurs.

His mother leans back a little, giving him a once-over to check for any visible bruises.

“Are you hurt?” She demands, though her tone remains gentle.

He shrugs. “Not really, I guess.”

She pulls him back towards her chest, tucking his head under her chin.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

He sighs, idly playing with his too long shirtsleeves.

“Jackson was nagging me about my ADHD again…”

“First day back at school and he’s already back to bullying you?”

“He didn’t really hurt me…he just said stupid things.”

“Words can hurt too, baby” she says, planting another kiss on his head. “What did he say?”

“The usual” Stiles shrugs. “He called me stupid, because I kept getting distracted in class. Told me I’m a weirdo because I need to take medication and only weirdo’s need them. That I’d better go to a special school with the other stupid kids, where I belong.”

He practically spits that last part and his voice wavers when he continues, “And the other kids just laughed at me. No one ever _gets_ it.”

“Oh honey” she sighs, rocking them back and forth slowly as Stiles starts crying again, his mother’s shoulder a wet mess of snot and tears.

He dries his eyes and nose with his shirtsleeve, letting out a shaking breath.

“You know you’re not a weirdo right?” His mother asks seriously, tilting his chin up again to meet his eyes. “Or stupid?”

He nods, worrying his lip.

“Can I go upstairs now?”

“Yeah” she whispers, stroking a hand over his head before letting him go. “I’m going to call Jackson’s parents. They need to know I’m not okay with this.”

“Do you have to?” Stiles all but whines.

“Yes, Stiles. This has to stop.”

He gets that. He’s just scared of Jackson taking his punishment out on him. Like he had the last few times. And not by punching him or something, it was almost never physical. Jackson just liked to humiliate him in front of _everyone_. And he got away with it every single time.

“Okay” he mumbles, standing up from the couch and finally making his way up the stairs. When he’s in his room, door closed behind him, he lets himself fall face-first onto the bed, screaming into his pillow. This is gonna be a long year.  
  


#  
  


It’s nearly time for dinner when his dad gets home. Stiles is still in his bedroom, but he can hear his parents in the kitchen downstairs, probably talking about his ‘fight’ with Jackson. He buries his head in his pillow, wrapping himself tighter in his bed sheets.

As expected, there is a knock on his door a few minutes later. He lets out a non-committal grunt and his father slips inside his bedroom, walking over to the edge of the bed and sitting down.

“Hey kiddo” he says, pulling the sheets away from Stiles’ face a little so he can see his expression.

“How’re you holding up?”

Stiles shrugs. “Fine.”

“Son, you’re allowed to admit it if you’re not.”

“I know” Stiles sighs, turning on his back. “I’m just tired of letting Jackson’s words get to me, I guess. He’s the one who’s stupid, anyway.”

His father sends him a small grin, ruffling his hair. “That’s my boy.”

Stiles can’t help grinning back.

“Dinner’s ready in a few minutes” his dad says, standing up. “You coming downstairs?”

Stiles nods. “Yeah.”

“Good. Clean up a bit before you do, kay?”

“Sure thing, Dad.”

His father leaves his room and Stiles drags himself out of bed, moving to the bathroom to clean himself up like his dad asked.

When he’s done he bounces down the stairs, mood slightly improved after the support of his parents. He goes straight to the kitchen, taking his seat on the dinner table across from his dad.

He’s drumming his fingers against the tabletop, mind elsewhere as usual. He gets back to the present when his dad puts his hand over Stiles’, stilling his fingers.

“Something you wanna ask?”

“Eh” The corners of his mouth tick up in amusement. His parents could always tell he wanted something before he did so himself.

He pulls his hand back, rubbing his neck. He’d been thinking when he was in his bedroom and he kind of wants to ask them something, but he isn’t sure his parents will say yes.

“Uhm…I was wondering if maybe I could go to the park for a while after dinner?”

He’s always liked the park. It was at the edge of town, surrounded by woods with a big hill of soft grass and this huge playground. What he likes the most about it, though, are the dogs. He never gets enough of playing with those adorable balls of fur.

His mother hums, sharing a look with his dad in silent communication. Stiles finds it kind of creepy that they’re able to do that. Eventually a slow smile plays on his mother’s lips.

“Fine, I guess today we could allow it.”

“But we want you home before eight” his father ads.

Stiles grins. “Thanks.”

Dinner is comfortable, almost making him forget about the events of the day. His dad tells them a funny story about some homeless guy who had thrown a brick through one of the police department’s windows – his dad is the sheriff in their town – to get arrested, so he would have a roof over his head for once, even if it was the roof of an uncomfortable holding cell.

After dinner he helps his mom with the dishes, giving her a kiss on the cheek when their done and running off to the garage to get his bike out.

He cycles to the park, only about fifteen minutes from his house. He parks his bike in the shed when he gets there, making sure its secure before walking over to the part of the hill where the dogs are allowed to play freely.

There are three dogs hopping around at the moment, chasing each other enthusiastically. He spots a familiar face and waves at the old lady.

“Hi Mrs. Benson!”

She smiles broadly, waving back.

“Hello Stiles. Would you like to play with Cooper for a while?”

He nods fervently, bouncing on his heels. “Yes please.”

She calls her dog towards her – a brown Labrador called Cooper – and hands Stiles a tennis ball.

“Go on dear” She pushes, “Tire the sweetheart out for me a bit.”

Stiles doesn’t need to be told twice.

“Come on, buddy!”

He throws the ball away from him and Cooper runs after it, catching it between his teeth in mid-air.

“Nice!” he laughs.

They go back and forth like that for a while, until it’s time for Cooper and the old lady to go home. He waves again.

“Bye Mrs. Benson, bye Cooper!”

The woman chuckles. “Goodbye dear.”

Stiles turns around, heading back to his bike when he catches someone looking at him from the edge of the trees. It was a boy, probably a few years older than him, with dark hair and impressive eyebrows. Had he been staring at him and Cooper the whole time?

Stiles tilts his head to the side, slowly walking closer to the older boy and raising his hand in a small wave again.

“Hi” He says when he’s close enough so the guy can hear him.

The boy blushes.

“H-H-Hi.”

Stiles smiles at him. “You don’t need to be nervous.”

The blush on the guy’s cheek deepens slightly, but he smiles back at Stiles.

“I’m n-n-n-not.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow at him. “You sure? Because it’s okay if you are, you know.”

The boy chuckles. “Yes, I’m sssure. I j-just ssssstutter.”

Oh. Huh. He didn’t really expect that one.

“You like playing with the dogs, too?” He asks.

The boy nods. “I used to. When I w-was your age.”

Stiles huffs before he can help it. “You don’t know my age.”

The boy – it is really annoying he doesn’t know his name – laughs softly.

“True.”

“What’s your name?” Stiles inquires.

The other kid frowns a little, amused by the sudden changes in topic.

“Derek” he says, holding out his hand to shake. Stiles takes it.

“I’m Stiles.”

“Hi SSSSStiles.”

Stiles giggles at the way Derek pronounces his name, promptly taking his hand and dragging him along to a big tree to the side and sitting down, dragging Derek down with him.

“So you have a stutter” he nods, “that’s cool. I have ADHD.”

Derek grins, getting into a more comfortable position than the heap of limps Stiles made him fall into when he’d dragged him down.

“I f-figured.”

Stiles beams at him when he realizes Derek doesn’t call him _stupid_ because of it. In fact, he seems kind of okay with Stiles’ wild antics.

“So how old are you?”

“Fifteen. Y-You?”

“Twelve” Stiles answers immediately, drumming his hands against his knees as he tries to decide on his next question.

“Have you had the stutter your whole life?”

Derek nods. “Hmhm”

“Cool, me too. The ADHD, I mean. My mom always says I started running around the house the day after I learned to walk. Still do that a lot, I guess. And I talk a lot, too.”

Derek huffs and rolls his eyes in amusement.

“You d-don’t sssay.”

“Shut up” Stiles chuckles, playfully slapping Derek’s arm. “It’s not always fun, you know? People don’t get it, they call you stupid, or weird, and their just _mean_ , you know?”

Stiles turns to Derek, honey-brown eyes big and pleading. He _needs_ Derek to understand. He likes the older kid. And it would be so awesome for him to be friends with someone as cool as Derek.

“Yeah” Derek sighs, looking at his lap for a moment. “People n-n-never get it. It’s f-f-frustrating.”

“Yeah!” Stiles beams, eyes sparkling. Derek _got it_.

“Man, you are so cool!” He exclaims without thinking.

Then the alarm on his phone chimes, meaning he has to go home now if he wants to be back before eight like he promised.

He groans. “Nooooooo!”

Derek laughs. But he isn’t laughing _at_ him, he’s laughing _because_ of him. Stiles did that. He kind of loves the feeling.

“I need to go home…” Stiles starts with a pout.

Derek nods. “Okay. We c-c-can m-meet here again ssssome other time.”

Stiles jaw drops. “Really?”

Because seriously, Derek – three years older than him _Derek_ – wants to hang out with him again. Him! Stiles the hyperactive spaz! He can’t help the giddy feeling flowing through him when Derek nods again.

He promptly offers Derek his pinky finger, schooling his face into seriousness. He doesn’t want anyone else to know about Derek yet, so…

“Can we keep it a secret, though? I don’t want the kids at school to follow me and make fun of us, you know?”

Again, Derek looks like he understands, which is freaking awesome.

“Pinky-promise?”

Derek snickers, shaking his head, but wraps his own pinky finger around Stiles’ and shakes them.

“P-Pinky promise.”

Stiles scrambles to his feet, once again dragging the older boy with him, and doesn’t even think before he throws his arms around Derek and hugs him enthusiastically. Just as quickly he lets him go, turning on his heels and waving over his shoulder as he sprints back to his bike.

“Bye Derek!”

“Bye SSSSStiles!”

Stiles throws his head back and laughs. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad year after all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be various sterek moments throughout one year of secret meetings. I know for sure that there’s gonna be a first kiss in there, but I need inspiration for other moments/activities. So my question to you: any suggestions? Tell me what you’d like to see these two get up to ^^ it can vary from conversations about some topic or games or activities or whatever, you name it.
> 
> **UPDATE**  
> Chapter 3 i done, so no need for suggestions anymore (unless you have a suggestion for when they're older, if I can make it fit into to story I will)
> 
> Ooh, and I’m on tumblr, you can find me [here](http://thelooneycorner.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Various Stiles and Derek moments through roughly one year of secret meetings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the rating on this story has gone up from mature to explicit, due to this chapter and future ones…I’m not quite sure where the line between the two lies, but I’m pretty sure I crossed it with this chapter. I regret nothing ^^

It’s the day after Stiles meets Derek for the first time that he realizes he’s an idiot. Because sure, he and Derek agreed on seeing each other again sometime. They just never talked about _when_ that would be.

So now he’s pouting and having a minor meltdown, because really, he _has_ to see Derek again. The older boy is the only thing that’s keeping him in school right now, at least trying to pay attention to the teacher in front of the class, instead of just running home crying again.

Jackson hasn’t said anything insulting to him today, but he keeps giving him these looks that mean he’s probably plotting Stiles’ death right now, talking in low whispers with his friends whenever Stiles accidentally looks their way.

He tries to ignore it, he really does, but it’s kind of hard when Jackson keeps popping up everywhere he goes – which he’s sure is totally deliberate on Jackson’s part.

So yeah, the thought of Derek is grounding him right now. He swings his legs back and forth on the slightly-too-high chair he’s sitting on, sighing as his teacher assigns them their homework for the next day. He can’t help glancing at the clock above the door. Only an hour left of school.

He then decides to just go back to the park after dinner, like he did yesterday. If he’s lucky, Derek will be there again.

He really, really hopes so.

When school’s finally over, he’s fidgety all the way back home. He’s not sure his parents will even let him go to the park on his own again tonight.

As usual, his mother is in the kitchen when Stiles gets home. He discards his shoes, bag and jacket under the coat rack in the hall and walks over to his mother, letting himself fall in the chair next to her at the kitchen table.

“Hi mom.”

“Hi sweetie” she says, looking up from the book she is reading, “How was school? Did Jackson give you any more trouble?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Aside from the death-glares he kept shooting me, it was fine.”

“I’m glad” she says, smiling softly at him.

“Hey Mom?”

“Yeah honey?”

“Can I please go to the park again after dinner?”

His mother tilts her head to the side, eyeing him curiously.

“You really like that place, don’t you? I couldn’t help but notice your change of mood when you got back from it yesterday. What’s so special about it?”

Stiles shrugs, scratching his head. He knows he can’t tell her the truth about Derek – they pinky-promised, those deals are sacred – but he doesn’t want to lie to her. So he goes for a half truth.

“I like the dogs. They’re all really cute and they help me get rid of my excess energy. There’s this one dog, Cooper, who’s so good at playing fetch and stuff, he can like, snatch a ball out of the air without any effort. He’s awesome.”

His mom gives him a fond smile, pursing her lips as she thinks it over.

“Alright then” she eventually says, “I’ll have to discuss it with your father, but if he agrees too, you can go.”

He beams. “Thanks mom.”

His father agrees, on the one condition that he’s home before eight like the previous day. Stiles can definitely live with that.

He’s so excited at the possibility of seeing Derek again, that he’s too wound up to sit still and his parents shoo him out of the house with a laugh, ridding him of his kitchen duties this once.

Stiles is on his bike less than a minute later, cycling towards the park with a smile on his face. He parks his bike at the same spot as he did yesterday and walks over to the edge of the trees where he met Derek last night.

The boy isn’t there, though.

Stiles’ shoulders slump. What if Derek won’t come today? He saunters over to the playground on the other side of the hill, sitting down on one of the swings. The playground is pretty much deserted, only a couple of toddlers playing in the sandbox with their mother.

He lets his mind wander for a while, staring at nothing and idly swinging back and forth. He can see Mrs. Benson and Cooper at the bottom of the grassy hill, enjoying the sunny afternoon, but he doesn’t really feel like playing with the dog right now.

He lets the swing come to a stop, kicking at the sand below him with the nose of his shoe. He sighs, standing up and burying his hands in his pockets.

He’s walking in the direction of Mrs. Benson and her brown Labrador, deciding to at least say hi, when he hears a voice behind him:

“SSStiles?”

He grins, turning around and coming face to face with a smiling Derek.

“Derek!”

The older boy chuckles. “Hi”

“You came!”

“Well yeah, wasn’t t-that the p-p-point?”

“Yeah, but we never agreed when we would come here again, which was kind of dumb” Stiles rambles, taking Derek’s hand and towing him towards the edge of the woods where they sat yesterday, “so you know, I didn’t even know if you’d come today, but I really really wanted you to, because you’re awesome – ”

“Stiles” Derek interrupts him gently, making Stiles’ head shoot up and look at him.

“Hm?”

“Breathe”

“Oh yeah”

Derek rolls his eyes, but it looks fond, so Stiles doesn’t mind. When they reach their spot from the previous day, Derek speaks up.

“Hey, I f-f-found a bigger tree a little deep-p-per in the woods, w-wanna check it out?”

Stiles nods eagerly, convinced that anything Derek found is bound to be cooler than this place. And he said it was deeper inside the woods, so no one will see them, which is ever better.

Derek leads the way, and about a minute later they stop in front of a giant oak tree. It’s the biggest one around them and Stiles stares at it in awe. They’re deeper into the shadows of the trees, like Derek had said, but still close enough to the edge of the woods to be able to see the hill from here. It’s perfect.

He tells Derek as much and the boy grins, sitting down in front of the tree with his back leaning against it, motioning for Stiles to follow his lead.

Stiles settles down beside him and launches off the million questions he has for Derek. They talk about anything and everything and for the first time in a very long time Stiles is comfortable about it. Derek isn’t annoyed by his questions, or his rambling, or the fact that he can’t ever seem to sit still for more than 30 seconds. He feels _accepted._

Stiles finds out that Derek’s family is huge and they all live together in this big house at the edge of town, surrounded by trees. He has two sisters, one older – Laura – and one younger than him, called Cora, who is a year older than Stiles. And he has this uncle that’s really creepy but who everyone loves anyway because of his ‘irresistible charm’ (his uncle’s words, not Derek’s).

Derek talks about his family with so much fondness, especially for his sisters, that Stiles can’t help but get a little jealous. He sighs audibly.

“I wish I had siblings.”

“Trust m-me, it’s not a-a-always as f-fun as it sssounds” Derek says, “They can b-be really an-noying.”

“Yeah, maybe. But at least you’re never on your own. You have people to stand up for you, you know?”

Derek shrugs. “Doesn’t keep them fffrom teasing me with it.”

“You mean you get bullied too?” Stiles asks, surprised. He can’t believe people would dare to go up against someone like Derek.

He nods. “T-Trust me, I do. It’s not a-a-as bad as it used to b-be, but…well y-you underssstand.”

Oh, Stiles understands. He really does.

“How do you cope with it?”

Derek seems to think about that one for a second. “Ignore them, I g-guess. They just want t-t-to he-hear me sssstutter so they can m-make fun of me, so most o-of the time I prefer to keep quiet.”

“Not with me though” Stiles observes, smug grin creeping on his face.

Derek smiles back at him. “No, not w-with you.”

Stiles leans his head on Derek’s shoulder without thinking, grin growing wider when Derek doesn’t push him away.

“Do you really think they will stop if we just ignore it for long enough?” He asks softly.

He can feel Derek shrug, jostling his head a little. “Works for m-me. I just d-d-don’t want to give them the ssssatisfaction, you k-know?”

“Yeah” Stiles sighs.

“Hey” Derek says, nudging Stiles’ shoulder to make him look at him, “It w-will get better in t-time, I prom-m-mise. Besides, you’re a-almost going to h-high school. It’ll be a n-n-new ssstart.”

And Stiles is kind of speechless. He’s never had someone that liked him enough to reassure him like this. Someone who _cared_.

He lets his head fall back on Derek’s shoulder to hide his silly grin.

“Thanks Derek”

“Anytime”

#  
  


They continue to meet up a couple of times a week from there. Usually every day of the weekend and one or two times after schooldays. Stiles wouldn’t mind seeing Derek every day, but their parents won’t let them go to the park that often, claiming they have to think about school.

Stiles has to admit school hasn’t been that bad since he met Derek. Jackson still tries to get a rise out of him every other day, but it helps to know that he’s not completely alone in this anymore. Whenever it gets to be too much for him again Derek will be there for him, and vice versa.

It continues like this for a few months, him and Derek settling into a nice routine.

The holiday season starts early for the boys, since Derek’s birthday is a few weeks prior to Thanksgiving, on November 7th.

Derek didn’t want him to, but Stiles buys him a birthday present anyway. He uses some of his own pocket money to buy him a new basketball – it’s Derek’s favorite sport – because Derek had told him his old one had seen its best days and could use replacement.

They spend the day strolling around the park and playing with the dogs, since it’s starting to get too cold to just sit under their tree. Derek treats him to a hotdog from the stand and he even likes Stiles’ present for him.

It’s a good day.

Before they know it, it’s thanksgiving and they meet up at the mall the day before, since they won’t be seeing each other the whole weekend. They saunter through a couple of stores, not buying anything, just enjoying each other’s company.

On their way back to the park, Stiles treats Derek to a hot cocoa to keep them warm. They sit down on the swings, talking and generally having fun.

“So w-what are y-you thankful for?” Derek asks him before they go home.

Stiles doesn’t even have to think about it. “You”

Derek returns the sentiment.

\---

When Christmas arrives, Derek and Stiles find some old decorating stuff to decorate their own tree in the forest, celebrating their own little Christmas together. Neither of them cares that it’s a few days after the actual holiday.

They gush about their presents, trying to decide which one of them got the best present (Derek wins, but only because Stiles let him…really).

Like Christmas and Thanksgiving, New Year’s a family gathering, so they don’t see each other that day. It’s a few days later when they’re finally allowed to go back to the park and wish each other a happy new year.

Stiles arrives at their tree before Derek, so as soon as he spots the older boy, he tackles him to the snow-covered ground, landing on top of him and burying them both in the freezing substance.

“Happy new year!” Stiles exclaims, beaming down at his best friend.

Derek just huffs, not too happy with the cold snow melting on his jeans. So he does what Derek does best and arches an eyebrow.

“Really?”

Stiles narrows his eyes at him in a playful threat.

“Dude, say the words”

Derek rolls his eyes, but complies with a small grin. “Happy n-new year SSStiles”

There’s a wicked glint in the older boy’s eyes and Stiles belatedly realizes what it means, because Derek’s already throwing Stiles off of him and bombarding him with snowballs.

“You’re the _worst_!” Stiles yelps between attacking Derek with snowballs of his own and laughing hysterically.

Derek is laughing as well and it’s kind of maybe Stiles’ favorite sound in the whole world. Because _he did that_.

Eventually Stiles gets tired and gives up, letting himself fall backwards into the thick pile of snow and moving his arms and legs around to make a snow angel.

When Derek offers his hand to help Stiles into a standing position again, he takes it, turning around to look at his creation. Which doesn’t look exactly like an angel, due to Stiles’ wild flailing from before.

“Damn, w-what a m-masterpiece” Derek muses, receiving a punch to his shoulder from Stiles.

“I hate you”

Derek scoffs, smirking knowingly at him. “You love m-me”

And yeah, he kind of does. But Derek doesn’t need to know that.

So Stiles just rolls his eyes, throwing another snowball at the guy and aiming at his smug face. He barks out a satisfying laugh when the ball hits Derek’s forehead and some of the snow sticks to his skin.

“Hey you wanna build a snowman?” Stiles asks when he’s done laughing.

Derek brushes the snow from his face and chuckles. “Sure”

They spend the rest of the afternoon on their snowman, shaping it to perfection and decorating it with twigs and pebbles until they’re both satisfied.

Stiles hasn’t ever enjoyed a winter day more than this one.

#  
  


It´s early spring when the boys go back to hanging out under their oak tree, which Stiles is happy about. He didn’t mind spending time at places like the mall, but this was _their_ place. A place where they could tell each other everything and just be.

When he gets to the tree, Derek is already there, a thing that doesn’t happen that often. He smirks at the older boy as he approaches him.

“Hey Der, couldn’t wait to see me?”

Derek doesn’t roll his eyes or huff like Stiles expects him to. Instead, he just laughs awkwardly. Stiles looks at him, taking in the nervous stance and the way he’s fidgeting with his sleeves. Derek never _fidgets_. That’s obviously Stiles’ thing.

“Is something wrong?”

The older boy takes in a deep breath, but shakes his head. He sits down against the tree, motioning for Stiles to do the same.

Stiles slowly walks forward, keeping a sharp eye on him. He could swear there’s something going on with Derek, but maybe he just doesn’t want to talk about it.

That realization hurts a little, because Stiles tells Derek everything, especially if there’s something he needs to get off his chest. Doesn’t Derek trust him enough to do the same?

He sits down next to him, deciding to forget about it for now and settling for small talk.

“So how was your day?”

Derek seems to be choking on air, a blush spreading high on his cheekbones.

“Uhm…g-g-good?”

It sounds hesitant, almost like a question and Stiles can’t help himself anymore.

“Dude, talk to me! We both know there’s something you want to tell me here”

Derek’s back to worrying his sleeves, eyes cast down. After a long minute of silence (and Stiles trying _really_ hard to not combust from the nervous energy flowing around) he finally meets Stiles’ eyes. He takes in a deep breath and squares his shoulders.

“Fine, b-b-but you have to p-promise not to tell an-nyone”

Stiles nods, giving him a reassuring smile. “Of course Derek”

“Okay, sssso there’s this g-girl, a friend o-of Laura’s…” Derek starts, “And I k-k-kind of like h-her?”

“You _kind of like her_?” Stiles asks, eyebrow raised playfully.

“Fine, I _r-r-really_ like her” Derek huffs, “And she a-asked me out t-t-today and I sssaid yes…but she’s older than me, like five years or something”

“Dude!” Stiles exclaims, eyes comically wide, “that’s so hot!”

Now Derek raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You d-don’t think it’s w-w-weird?”

“Nah” Stiles shrugs, “I think it’s pretty cool she wants to go out with you. I’m kind of jealous.”

Derek chuckles and Stiles is happy that he seems a little less tense.

“So what’s her name?” He asks.

“Kate” Derek sighs.

Stiles laughs at Derek’s dreamy expression.

“So you like this girl, right?”

Derek nods.

“And she’s hot?”

Another nod. “SSSo hot”

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” Stiles asks. Because seriously, he doesn’t see it.

“W-Well…” Derek trails off, rubbing a hand over his neck nervously, “I k-kind of think sssshe exp-p-pects us to k-kiss and stuff, you know?”

Stiles nods. The girl…or woman, really (so hot) probably did. And then it clicks. He finally gets why Derek’s so nervous.

“Have you ever kissed someone before?”

Derek’s blush is back as he shakes his head. He sighs.

“No...a-and that’s the p-p-problem. What i-if I’m bad at it?”

Stiles gives him a fond smile. “Der, you’re not gonna be bad at it. I mean, it’s not like I know what I’m talking about here, obviously, but I’m like 99% sure that kissing is supposed to be a natural skill.”

Derek sighs again, not looking so sure about that.

“Yeah, I g-guess”

If Stiles would have a brain-to-mouth filter – which he _clearly_ doesn’t – he would never have said the words that leave his mouth next.

“You should practice on me”

Derek looks up sharply, eyebrows raised to his forehead and mouth falling open slightly, exposing his bunny teeth (Stiles would laugh or coo at him, but he promised Derek never to make fun of him for that).

“W-What?” Derek breaths.

“Look” Stiles explains, “I’ve seen Jackson kiss some girl at school and I totally want to know what that feels like, well not the kissing Jackson or the girl part, because ew, but kissing” he rambles. “And you clearly want to know what it feels like too, so just practice on me so I can prove you don’t suck at it and you and Kate can have like the best kiss ever”

If Stiles is honest, that logic sounded way more reasonable in his head, but well…too late now. Derek blinks and to Stiles’ surprise he starts nodding his head a few seconds later.

“That…m-makes sense”

“It does?” Stiles parrots, then realizes his mistake and says: “I mean, yeah, of course it does!”

Now, you have to understand, it’s not like he has a crush on Derek or anything, he honestly doesn’t. He’s a handsome guy, sure, but he doesn’t even like guys. Probably. Anyway, he just really wants to know what kissing feels like. This will just be two teenage boys kissing for the sake of science.

He shuffles closer to Derek, meeting his eyes.

“Okay, so how do we do this?”

“You’re asking me?” Derek asks, tone a little incredulous.

“Right”

Stiles tilts his head, trying to decide how this would be the least awkward. They could both sit on their knees or something and lean in, but…yeah, no, awkward. So he just gives up on boundaries and straddles Derek’s lap.

“What are y-y-you doing?” Derek asks warily.

Stiles puts his hands on Derek’s broad shoulders and shrugs. “I have no idea”

Derek huffs out a laugh, putting his hands on Stiles’ hips.

“You sssure ab-bout this?”

“Oh come on!” Because now Derek's making it sound like Stiles is the girl in this non-relationship and that just won't do.

Derek looks like he wants to say something else, but before he can Stiles surges forward and puts his lips on Derek’s.

The first thing that comes to his mind is how…weird it feels. But then their lips are moving and Derek tilts his head ever so slightly, which actually makes it better. Even though only a few seconds have passed, it feels like minutes when they break apart.

“Huh” Stiles breaths out, not knowing what else to say. The kiss wasn’t bad or anything, just a…curious sensation. He still feels a little tense and awkward, though and he’s pretty sure Derek feels the same.

“Can I…t-try something?” Derek suddenly asks.

Stiles shrugs. “Sure, go ahead”

Derek puts their lips together again and Stiles takes a moment to enjoy the soft slide of them moving against each other. And then he feels Derek’s tongue gently nudging his bottom lip and his lips part in surprise. Derek takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside Stiles’ mouth and their tongues touch. They only lick into each other’s mouth for a few seconds – and this time it actually feels like seconds – before they break apart gasping.

“Gah, that was horrible” Stiles groans, face scrunching up in disgust.

“No k-kidding” Derek says, face equally scrunched up.

Their eyes meet and Stiles can’t help himself, he bursts out laughing. After a beat Derek is laughing too, though the sound ends in a pathetic half-whine.

“SSSStiles, this isn’t f-funny” Derek groans, “How am I e-e-ever gonna k-kiss Kate now?”

Stiles’ laughter turns into a soft chuckle and he pecks Derek on the lips for the hell of it.

“Practice makes perfect, Der-bear”

Derek throws Stiles off his lap with a huff, scowling at him.

“I hope y-you and my sssisters never meet”

Stiles barks out another laugh, because come on, he just had his first kiss! And yeah, maybe it wasn’t as great as he expected it would be (which was probably why Jackson liked it so much), but it’s still a kiss. He tells Derek as much and the older boy can’t disagree.

“Come on” Derek says, standing up and offering a hand to Stiles, “Let’s g-g-get a hotd-dog or something, I n-need a dif-f-ferent taste in my mouth”

“Hey!” Stiles exclaims, punching Derek’s shoulder.

Derek chuckles. “No o-offense”

“Just get me the damn hotdog. I’m starving.”

\---

It’s the weekend after that – when Derek’s had his date with Kate – and Stiles immediately starts questioning him.

“So did you kiss her?”

Derek nods, smug grin on his face. “I did”

“Dude!” Stiles breaths, feeling weirdly proud at his best friend. “So did you like it? Oh my god, did you use tongue?”

Derek blushes furiously, but the glint in his eyes tells Stiles enough. Yes, yes he did.

And he definitely liked it this time.

#  
  


Stiles is having the weirdest dream _ever_. He can’t remember ever having dreamt something as weird as this before. Because he’s dreaming about peeing.

Yes, you heard him right. Peeing.

And it’s a very realistic one, too. It’s almost like he can feel the fluid flow through his penis. So yeah, weird. And what’s even crazier is that he kind of _likes_ the feeling. It makes him feel all relaxed, and warm and –

He wakes up humping the mattress beneath him in shallow thrusts, breath coming in short gasps just as he can feel himself wet his undies, a warm tingly feeling erupting from his groin and spreading through his entire body before it turns into undeniable _pleasure_.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, trying to figure out _what the hell just happened._ He can’t seriously have wet the bed, he hasn’t done that since he was like four years old.

He slowly rolls onto his back, scrunching up his face at the sticky feeling in his boxers. He throws off the covers, leaving himself with a clear view of the tiny wet spot on the front of his underwear. So he didn’t pee then, the spot is way too small for that.

But then what happened?

He rolls over to look at the clock on his bedside table, reading 10.30 AM. He promptly hops out of bed to take a much-needed shower, throwing his boxers in the hamper on his way to the bathroom.

He’s so thankful that it’s Saturday, because it’ll only be a few hours before he’ll see Derek and then he can talk with him about what just happened. Of course he _could_ ask his parents, but the idea on itself makes him shudder and very uncomfortable. So Derek it is. And hey, what are friends for, right?

\---

After lunch he cycles to the park, impatiently waiting for Derek by their tree. When the older boy finally arrives he immediately drags him down into a sitting position, sitting down cross-legged himself and facing Derek.

“We need to talk” Stiles blurts.

Derek raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Okay…?”

“I uh…”

And now he’s trying to talk about it he really doesn’t know how to start. This is a lot harder than he thought it would be.

“I uhm, okay this is going to sound crazy and there’s a big chance you’re gonna think I’m a big baby after this but I really need to talk about it so…”

Derek smiles at him, encouraging him to go on. “Try m-me.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, bracing himself for the inevitable.

“Okay, so I kind of peed in my pants this morning? I mean it kinda felt like peeing but not, and there wasn’t like a big wet spot or something and it felt like really good, I mean _really good_ and yeah, I don’t know what to do with that so please tell me this is totally normal and I’m not the freak everyone already thinks I am?”

Derek looks like he doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry, the expression on his face a mixture of amusement and utter horror.

Stiles would laugh if he wasn’t at the verge of a nervous breakdown.

In the end Derek drags a hand over his mouth and settles for a look of discomfort, looking at the sky like he’s asking for strength.

“Uhm…” he starts, clearing his throat before he continues, “I g-g-guess it’s k-k-k-kind of n-normal?”

“It is?!” Stiles exclaims, exhaling in relief. “Wait, does this mean you know what happened to me?”

Stiles doesn’t understand why, but it looks like Derek is blushing.

“Uhm, y-yeah?”

“Okay, so what is it?” Stiles pushes, shuffling around to sit on his knees and giving Derek his undivided attention.

“W-Well…” Derek starts with a sigh, seemingly deciding to just get this over with, “I’m p-pretty sssure you had a w-w-wet dream. A lot o-of boys get t-t-them.”

Huh. Stiles raises his eyebrows, looking at Derek in fascination.

“So you get them, too?”

Derek is definitely blushing now, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he answers with a cough followed by a small ‘yes’.

“Nice” Stiles nod, “So does it always feel that good? I mean it felt kind of weird, but like a good weird…and does it only happen when I’m asleep?”

Derek buries his head in his hands and groans.

“You’re k-k-killing me here”

“What? Why?” Stiles blanches.

Derek lets his hands fall back in his lap, still looking uncomfortable but at least now he’s sort of grinning. It’s progress.

“N-never mind” he says, shaking his head. “Look, I’m o-o-only gonna tell y-you this once, sssso pay attention.”

Stiles nods immediately, trying to keep still and focus on what the older boy is about to say.

“That nice f-f-feeling you got? It’s c-c-called an o-orgasm.”

Stiles’ mouth falls open into a wide ‘o’, because he’s definitely heard of _that_ word before.

“You can g-get one if you h-h-have a wet dream, like you did” Derek continues, “Or by h-having sex, or by m-m-masturbating.”

Derek sends him a look that he’s pretty sure means something along the lines of: ‘please tell me I don’t need to explain _that_ to you’. He nods to let him know he got it.

Derek clears his throat, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“You ssshould prob-b-bably try it sometime…but i-it’s easier in t-t-the shower, you know, f-f-for clean-up.”

Stiles nods fervently, thanking Derek because he’s a freaking life saver.

Seriously, Derek is the _best._

#  
  


It’s a few weeks later when Stiles’ curiosity gets the best of him and he masturbates for the first time.

He does it in the shower, like Derek advised him, the bathroom door firmly locked and the loud spray of the water from the showerhead drowning out all noises. Well, hopefully.

He uses soap to slick his dick up, gripping the shaft in his hand and giving his penis a few experimental tugs before moving lower to fumble with his balls for a bit. He grins when his dick twitches, starting to chub up in interest.

He moves his hand back to his penis, moving it up and down the shaft and watching in fascination how he strokes himself to full hardness. He can literally feel the blood pulsing through it and he gets that warm, tingly feeling in his crotch area again. It’s strangely satisfying.

He grips a little harder, moving his thumb over the slit and letting out a loud moan, because it feels _amazing_. He moves his free hand over his chest, playing with his nipples and making his hips buck up into his fist involuntarily.

Stiles notices his breathing getting shallower as he strokes himself faster and faster, putting a hand on the tile wall in front of him to keep his balance. He gasps when he feels his balls draw up, mumbling an ‘Oh god’ when he feels that same weird peeing feeling coming up.

He moves his thumb over the slit again and a few hard thrusts later he’s done for, cumming all over his hand, letting it get washed away by the hot water pouring down on him.

He didn’t cum that much, but Derek had told him (after some nagging from Stiles) that it was normal for a boy his age. It’ll get thicker and more copious as he gets older.

When he’s got his breath back, he can’t help the goofy smile that creeps upon his face. He just _masturbated._ He feels kind of proud, feeling like it’s a first step into adulthood. He sighs.

Puberty is freaking awesome.

\---

Today is Sunday and the first warm day of spring. So Stiles and Derek go swimming at a small creek inside the woods at the edge of town (which Stiles didn’t even know existed, but Derek seems to know his way around the area).

They’ve barely been swimming for ten minutes when Stiles is unable to contain his excitement anymore.

“Guess what?” He asks.

Derek raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“I masturbated today!” He exclaims, beaming proudly, because really.

All Derek does is mow his arm through the water and send it splashing at Stiles’ face, exasperated look on his face.

“I c-could have gone m-m-my whole life without know-w-wing that”

Stiles just sticks his tongue out at him.

“Dude, you love me”

Derek rolls his eyes with a huff, but Stiles can see right through him. Derek’s trying very hard to suppress a grin.

“Whatever h-helps you sssleep at night”

#  
  


A couple of months later finds them on the last day of school before summer break. Tomorrow Stiles will go on vacation with his parents, so he’s eager to spend some more time with Derek after school.

They spend the afternoon bathing in the sunlight, enjoying the fact they’re free from school for a couple of weeks. They’re stretched out underneath their giant oak tree, talking about their plans for the summer and the things they could do together.

But neither of them knows that today will be the last time they see each other in a very long time…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, little warning: things will get a little darker from here for a while for our boys. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://crazytvaddict.tumblr.com/) if you want. It also has sterek fic recs!
> 
> Also please leave a comment to tell me what your thoughts on this chapter, feedback is important to me :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek disappears from Stiles' life and Stiles has to figure out how to deal with that. It proves to be harder than he thought, until he meets a certain someone to fill the void Derek left behind...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all for the lovely comments and kudo's, they mean a lot to me and it's great motivation to keep writing!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter :)

Stiles is sitting on the living room couch, staring at some cartoon on the TV with a blank expression on his face, not really seeing it.

Because he doesn’t understand. 

It’s the day after he came back from his vacation with his parents and he had been so excited to tell Derek all about it. Before Stiles went away, they’d agreed to meet this very day and Stiles had been looking forward to it a lot. Derek was supposed to be there.

But he never showed up…  
  


_Stiles is running down the stairs and into the hallway, shoving his feet into his shoes and about to bolt out of the front door when his father’s voice calls from behind him:_

_“Where do you think you’re going, kiddo?”_

_Stiles sighs, hopping from one foot to the other in barely contained excitement._

_“The park”_

_His father raises an eyebrow at that, giving him a calculated look._

_“We’ve only been back a day and you already can’t wait to go back there? I still don’t understand what’s so special about that place”_

_Stiles shrugs, flailing his arms around. “It’s just…my space, you know?”_

_“Sure,” his father chuckles before ruffling his hair affectionately, “Back before dinner, okay?”_

_Stiles nods, wrapping his arms around his dad in a quick hug._

_“You be safe at work”_

_“Always am” his father mumbles to the top of his head before letting him go._

_As usual, it doesn’t take Stiles long to get to the park. He doesn’t waste time running to their tree where he’s supposed to meet Derek._

_The older boy isn’t there yet, but that’s okay. It’s normal for Stiles show up first. He can’t wait to tell Derek about all the fun stuff he did on his vacation, like his **birthday**. Derek had been kind of sad when he found out Stiles wouldn’t be home for his birthday, but Stiles told him they could just celebrate when he got back._

_He plops down on the ground, leaning his back against the wide trunk of the tree. After a few seconds of silence, he starts to hum a song under his breath, tapping his hands against his legs to the rhythm.  
_

_When Derek still isn’t there half an hour later, Stiles starts to get worried. Derek wouldn’t forget to come, right?_

_He shakes his head, dismissing the thought. No, Derek would never. He’d promised. And Derek always kept his promises._

_He sits up, picking up a random twig and doodling in the dirt to entertain himself for a bit until the older boy gets here._

_An hour later Derek still isn’t there and Stiles can’t help but think the worst. What if Derek didn’t **want** to come? Because there was no way Derek had forgotten. So that had to be it, didn’t it? Derek was tired of hanging out with him – the hyperactive kid that never shut up. He probably thought it was time to hang out with kids his own age (he was sixteen, after all, seventeen in a few months) and didn’t want to face Stiles to bring him the bad news._

_Stiles couldn’t decide if he was angry or sad. But he knew that if Derek didn’t show up today, than that meant he didn’t want to be friends anymore. And Stiles would be alone again._

_He can feel his eyes sting and angrily rubs at them with his fists. He was thirteen years old dammit, he was not going to cry about this._

_He stood up, marching away from the tree that had become so important to him. He strode over to the hill, catching sight of Mrs. Benson and Cooper. He stops walking, contemplating whether to go up to them or just go straight home._

_Eventually he settles on saying hi to the couple. If Derek still wasn’t there after that, he’d go home and accept Derek’s decision._

_Derek never came…_   
  


Stiles can feel a single tear sliding down his cheek. He sniffs, wiping it away with the back of his hand. It just doesn’t make any sense to him! Surely he would have known if Derek didn’t like hanging out with him anymore, right? He must have noticed _something_ was off about the older boy. He always noticed before.

His mother sits down next to him on the couch, handing him a cold glass of his favorite juice.

“Here” she says, stroking a finger down his cheek once. “You want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head. This was maybe the hardest part. He couldn’t tell anyone, because no one even _knew_ about Derek. They _swore_ to each other to keep their friendship a secret, so his mother wouldn’t even know what he was talking about. She probably wouldn’t even believe him, think he made up an imaginary friend or something.

“Did something happen at the park today?”

Another shake of his head. He bites his lip to keep himself from spilling everything to his mom, because if he’s honest with himself he really wants to. But he _promised_ Derek. And even though Derek may not want to be his friend anymore, that didn’t mean their promise didn’t mean anything still.

His mother sighs. “Alright sweetie, you know where to find me if you change your mind.”

He sighs, leaning his head on her shoulder and letting her arms envelop him in a warm hug.

“Thanks Mom”

His mom gets up to start dinner, leaving him to his thoughts. Maybe he should go back to the park tomorrow. There was still a chance Derek had by some miracle forgotten the day or mistaken it for the next.

But it might also just be wishful thinking on Stiles’ part.

He gets off the couch, sauntering over to the kitchen to see if his mom could use some help with dinner. About twenty minutes later his father comes home.

Stiles’ and his mom’s heads turn simultaneously when his father walks into the kitchen, walking up to them and crushing them into a tight hug. After a long, silent moment he lets them go, dragging himself to the table and taking a seat. He looks _wrecked_.

“Honey, are you alright?” His mother inquires immediately, voice full of concern.

His father drags his hands over his face and slowly shakes his head. His eyes shift between Stiles and his mom, like he’s deciding if he can answer that question with his son in the room.

“I…” He starts, but his voice catches in his throat. He clears his throat and tries again.

“You know the Hales, right?” The question is directed at his mother.

“Of course” she nods, “They live up in the Preserve, right? Talia is one of the best lawyers in Beacon County, everyone has at least heard of that name.”

_Well, not everyone…_ Stiles thinks, because he doesn’t have a clue who the Hales are. He does recognize the expression on his dad’s face, though.

“Did something happen to them?” He asks carefully.

His father averts his eyes, looking at the table and running a hand through his hair.

“There was a fire” he starts and Stiles can hear his mother gasp next to him. When his father continues, his voice is grave.

“Almost everyone was in the house” his father whispers, barely audible. “None of them was able to get out on time”

He can hear his mother mumble an ‘Oh my god’ beside him, hands going to her mouth.

“They all died?” Stiles croaked, eyes wide. No wonder his dad was so shaken.

The man nodded. “Everyone who was inside, yeah. Talia’s kids weren’t there when it happened. They came back from a short trip to the mall to find their house ablaze. There was nothing they could do at that point. They were _devastated_.”

“What will happen to them?” His mother asks, turning off the stove to take a seat beside her husband.

His father shrugs. “We’re not sure. Talia’s oldest is nineteen, so we’ll try for her to get at least some temporary custody. They’re talking to social services as we speak. They’re probably gonna need a hell of a lot of therapy to be able to deal with this.”

“I can’t believe this” his mom whispers. “How could something like this even happen?”

“Another thing we’re not sure about. We haven’t found any evidence yet as to how the fire started. Honestly, the house is barely even recognizable.”

His father clears his throat, standing up from the table and announcing he’s going to take a shower before dinner.

“Let’s just forget about it for now, alright?”

They nod, turning back to the cooking. Stiles couldn’t wait for this day to be over.

 

#

 

Derek doesn’t show the next day either, or the day after that. Stiles can’t lie to himself anymore. He has to accept that Derek has moved on, disappeared from his life and left a gaping hole in his wake.

It hurts more than he could have imagined.

He tries to go about his days like he normally would without Derek, but it proves to be very hard to find something that takes his mind off of the older boy and to settle into some new routine.

He’s sure his parents notice he doesn’t go to the park anymore, but they never bring it up, which he’s thankful for. He still really wants to talk about it, but just doesn’t know how. His explanation would be so hard to believe. It would most probably sound like he had an imaginary friend. Something he’s almost starting to believe himself.

Summer break is over before Stiles knows it. It surprises him, because he still feels impossibly empty. Most of the time he doesn’t know what to do with himself and his days are long and uneventful.

The first day of school arrives, but Stiles can’t find it in himself to be excited about being an 8th grader now. His mother sits him down on the couch before he leaves for school, crouching in front of him.

“Listen” She starts, taking his hands in hers. “I know something must have happened at the park that still has you upset, but I want you to know that today doesn’t have to be a repeat of last year.”

Her eyes bore into his, determined to get her point across.

He swallows, nodding slowly and squeezing his mother’s hands for a second. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m not really afraid of Jackson anymore, anyway.”

His mother smiles at him, squeezing back. “That’s my boy.”

They walk to the front door and his mom gives him a big hug before he can go.

“Remember to have a little fun, alright?”

“Sure, Mom”

She lets him go and he makes his way over to the bus stop, waiting for the vehicle to arrive. This was gonna be a long day.

\---

That first long Monday turns into a long _week_. Stiles is glad he’s finally got some distraction in his school work, but as soon as he’s done with that he’s back to moping. He’s so _done_ with it. He just wants to move on, enjoy his last year before high school, like his mother told him to do.

It’s not nearly as easy as it sounds. He spends the weekend playing videogames and watching cartoons he doesn’t really care about, just to kill time.

It all changes when he goes back to school the following Monday. Everyone’s just taken their seats when the principal enters their classroom, a tanned boy with dark hair trailing behind him, his eyes glancing nervously at the other kids in the room.

“Kids” The principal starts, gently pushing Scott in front of him, “This is Scott McCall. He just moved to Beacon Hills with his mother and will be joining your class. Please do your best to make him feel welcome”

Their teacher takes over from there, showing the new kid – Scott – his seat, which happens to be the one in front of Jackson. Stiles hopes for his sake that the boy is able to stand his ground. If not, Jackson just might have found his new target.

Their teacher calls for their attention and starts the class, so Stiles doesn’t think about Scott anymore until it’s time for their PE class.

All the kids are scattered around the room, playing tag as a warm-up game. When Jackson is ‘it’, the jerk naturally goes immediately after Scott. The poor kid doesn’t stand a chance. Jackson is at his side in mere seconds, shoving him hard instead of just tagging him, making the boy trip and fall.

“Oops, my bad” Jackson shrugs, smirking. “You’re ‘it’!”

Scott gets back on his feet, trying to go after Jackson but quickly realizing he’s way too fast for him. instead, he goes after one of Jackson’s friends, but he’s just as hard to catch.

“What’s the matter kid?” The boy sneers, “Can’t keep up with the big boys?”

Scott balls his hands into fists. Stiles expects him to look angry, murderous even (he wouldn’t blame him), but when he takes a closer look at the boy, he notices his chest is heaving and his breaths are coming way to quickly and shallowly.

Stiles is walking up to him before he realizes it, putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey, are you alright?”

The boy takes – well, _tries_ to take – a deep breath, shaking his head.

“No” he wheezes, hand flailing around his throat and chest area. “Need my inhaler”

Stiles’ eyes widen. The boy’s asthmatic.

He gently grabs Scott by his shoulders, steering him away from the other kids and towards their teacher and the bench, making him sit down on it.

“Where’s your inhaler?” he inquires.

Scott gasps, trying to get in more air but seemingly unable to. “Front pocket of my bag”

Stiles doesn’t look at their teacher to check if he can go grab it, just takes off towards the locker room. Once inside, he scans the room for the boy’s bag, quickly catching sight of it and hauling it up his shoulder before he turns on his heels and runs back to Scott.

His teacher takes the bag from him when he gets back, getting Scott’s inhaler out of it and quickly handing him the medicine.

After a few inhalations of the stuff, Scott visibly relaxes. He gives the inhaler back to their teacher and then turns to Stiles.

“Thanks” He says, looking so sincere Stiles can’t help but smile at him.

“No problem, dude”

At lunch, it’s time for Jackson’s inevitable comeback.

“Well well…” he drawls, “Looks like Stilinski finally found his loser soulmate”

His group of friends starts to snicker behind him, but Stiles just rolls his eyes. He was 100% done with Jackson. There was no way in hell that he was going to let Scott be subjected to this on his first day.

“You know Jackson,” he starts, “for someone who so desperately wants to be _one of the big boys_ , you’re acting unbelievably childish”

Jackson blanches, not expecting Stiles to go up against him, but quickly recovers and just scoffs.

“Whatever, Stilinski”

Their group walks off towards their own table and when he turns back to Scott, the boy is looking at him wide-eyed and gaping.

“ _Dude_ ” he breaths.

Stiles can’t help but chuckle. “What?”

“You just totally stood up to that guy!”

Huh. Looks like he did. And _it worked_.

Stiles shrugs. “I mean, it’s Jackson…he’s an asshole. You should probably get used to it if you’re planning on hanging out with me”

“Man, I don’t even care” Scott says, shaking his head with a grin, “You’re probably way more fun to hang out with anyway”

“Yeah, pretty sure I am” Stiles nods, a smile tugging at his lips. “How do you feel about videogames?”

Scott smiles back at him, dimples on display and looking like an excited puppy.

“You wanna come over to mine after school and play some COD?”

Well…he can’t say no to that, now can he?

“You’re on”

And with Scott, he finally finds a new routine. They go over to each other’s houses almost every day, playing videogames or just hanging out. It’s been a long time since Stiles has felt this happy. With Scott, he feels like he’s finally able to get his life back on the road.

He will be okay, he’s sure of it.  
  


#  
  


_2_ _years later_   
  


Stiles is in high school now, a proud sophomore of fifteen years old. He has accepted that Derek isn’t in his life anymore, Scott taking up the roll of best friend. He still feels that hole Derek left behind sometimes, the thought of the older boy suddenly creeping up on him and making him feel empty again. But Scott has been great in filling that void. 

The two of them have grown incredibly close in just a couple of years, being more like brothers than friends. It’s like they’ve known each other their whole lives.

Scott’s mom – Melissa – is amazing, too. She’s a nurse at Beacon Hills Hospital and works a lot of late shifts like Stiles’ dad. When she does, they go over to Stiles’ house for dinner and after that they usually do some homework before goofing off and going back to playing videogames.

It’s one of those nights tonight. They’re over at Scott’s house playing COD, lazily hanging in front of the TV in Scott’s bedroom, the floor littered with empty candy wrappers and other snacks. Scott is talking about the new girl at school – Allison Argent – and Stiles can’t resist giving him a playful shove.

“Man, you have it bad”

Scott scoffs. “I do not”

Stiles raises an eyebrow at him. “So it’s just a coincidence you haven’t stopped talking about her since” – he interrupts himself to glance at the clock on Scott’s bedroom wall, “an hour ago when we _started playing_?”

His friend’s cheeks turn pink, but his dimples break out not a second later, making him look kind of adorable.

“Fine, I really _really_ like her” Scott sighs, “But I’m telling you man, I’m pretty sure she might be the love of my _life_!”

Stiles can’t help it; he throws his head back and laughs. Scott throws a pillow at him in retaliation.

“It’s not like you haven’t ever had a crush before” He grumbles.

“Sure,” Stiles says, “There was Heather, last year…and of course there’s Danny – ”

“Danny-from- _Jackson_ Danny?” Scott interrupts with wide eyes.

Stiles shrugs. “Yeah, dude, he’s kinda hot”

He’d come to terms with his bisexuality pretty soon after he got that particular crush. Luckily, no one gave him a hard time about it. Not even Jackson, since his new best friend Danny is openly gay and somehow Jackson has decided to turn his wrath on anyone who dares to even think about saying anything bad about it to Danny. It’s awesome.

Then his phone starts to ring, the music from the theme song from CSI – _Who are you_ from The Who – filling the room, indicating his dad is calling him.

He accepts the call, greeting his father cheerfully.

“Hey, daddy-o!”

All his father says is “Stiles” in this _tone_ that Stiles immediately knows he’s serious and to cut the crap, so he’s quick to ask:

“What’s wrong?”

There’s a long, tense silence from his dad, until he finally says:

“It’s your mom”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-dunnnnn
> 
> *laughs evilly*
> 
> Okay, so from here on out, things are going to get dark for Stiles…it’s worth it, I promise. And knowing me, everything will probably be fine in the end.
> 
> For those of you who are wondering, Derek will come back eventually, probably in chapter 7. I promise Sterek is still endgame!
> 
> And as always, you can find me on tumblr [here](http://crazytvaddict.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Kudo’s and comments are always appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the death of his mother, Stiles breaks down and get's depressed. Unfortunately he's very good at hiding it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING*WARNING*WARNING*  
> There will be mentioning and/or descriptions of depression, alcohol abuse, panic attacks and self-harm in this chapter. If any of these subjects are a trigger for you, please proceed with caution!
> 
> And for the rest of you, enjoy another chapter :)

Stiles feels numb.

There´s really no other word for it. It´s nothing like feeling empty, or sad. Nothing like refusing to acknowledge a simple fact of life or your emotions about it. Nothing like the hole Derek had once left behind. Because this…this is too much to handle even for him.

Because his mother is dead.

She´s gone. When his father had called him, she´d been in the hospital, because some asshole decided it would be fun to get into his car while he was drunk, leading him to crash his fucking car into his mom.

But he doesn’t feel angry. Doesn’t feel grief or sorrow, even though he knows he should.

Instead, he doesn’t feel _anything_.

Sure, he cried when he and Scott had rushed over to the hospital to see her, only to find that she was about to breathe her last dying breath. She had stubbornly waited for him before she died, determined to tell him one more time how much she loved him. How much she loved his father. That they had to promise her to take care of each other.

Because there was nothing they could do for her anymore.

So now she’s gone and she’s never coming back.

Stiles is a fifteen year old kid without a mother. He barely eats. He doesn’t sleep. He can’t find it in himself to care about a single thing.

Until the funeral, he and his father pretend to have their shit together. It’s what his mother would have wanted, really. But as soon as they are back home, they both shut down. They aren’t the type of men to comfort each other, cry and talk it out. They just let each other be and grieve in their own way.

For his father, this means hitting the bottle and working overtime. Stiles knows he at least attempts to hide it from him, but the never-fading smell of alcohol around him and the fact that he’s never home anymore pretty much give it away.

In Stiles’ case, it means burying himself in research. It’s a coping mechanism, apparently. With what he found on the internet and some random books, he’s pretty sure that he’s suffering from depression.

Again, he can’t find it in himself to care even remotely.

Contrary to his father, Stiles actually does a good job in hiding it. Given the circumstances, people don’t question his behavior the first couple of weeks. Time to grieve, and all that shit. After that, though, Stiles acts like he’s fine, like he’s coping. Like he’s fucking _healing_. He plasters a smile on his face whenever he leaves the house, talks to people, _acts_ like his old self. But as soon as he’s back into the confines of the house, the mask slips off to reveal the impassive features of the boy left without a mother.

He feels like a zombie.

No one even notices that he’s _not okay_ in the slightest, that he’s gradually derailing to a point of no return. He should probably care about that, too, but yeah.

He just doesn’t give a damn about any of it. Things he used to enjoy before, like playing videogames or reading a book or comic for fun, aren’t even crossing his mind anymore. Neither are the things he used to do with his mom, like baking, or watching reruns of old TV shows. If he was forced to name the one thing he missed doing, though, it would be _masturbating_.

It’s been months and he hasn’t jacked off _once._ He’s tried, though. Out of boredom or just to feel _something_ , but he couldn’t even get horny enough to get fully hard. So eventually he just gave up on that as well.

He lets out a heavy sigh, getting out of bed and heading to the kitchen to start dinner. It’s one of the household chores he’s taken upon himself after the death of his mother, to keep up the appearance that they’re fine. He kind of owes it to his mom, as well. Him and his dad had promised her to take care of each other and they’re doing a shitty job at it, but this – cooking, doing laundry – he can manage. He can do it for her.

He decides to just go for spaghetti, letting his mind drift off again during the easy process of making pasta.

Another unwelcome condition he got saddled up with after his mom’s death are the panic attacks. He got the first one the night he and his dad got back from the hospital, just after she died, when it had really sunk in. He remembers the way his heart started to hammer a mile a minute in his chest. How his breathing got shallower up to the point where he was hyperventilating. How he slipped to the ground of the bathroom floor, calling out to his dad in a croaking voice.

His dad had found him on the verge of passing out, immediately going into ‘cop-mode’ to calm his son down and guide him through the attack.

Afterwards, Stiles had clung to his dad, sobbing soundlessly, his dad holding onto him just as tight. That was the only time they actually grieved together, showing their emotions. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

After that first panic attack, they’d happened to him sporadically. Sometimes he could feel them coming and prepare himself or try and stop it. Other times he was completely taken by surprise, leaving him passed out on the spot on more than one occasion.

Scott knows about the attacks, which helps. He’s usually able to talk Stiles through it, keep him from blacking out like the good friend he is.

Speaking of said friend, he and Stiles joined the lacrosse team. It had been Scott’s idea, of course, Stiles couldn’t care less about the sport (or any sport, really. Though he used to enjoy watching baseball with his dad).

Scott wasn’t the most athletic guy out there either, given his asthma and all, but he was hell-bent on getting Allison to notice him, still trying to impress her. Admittedly, Scott’s asthma had diminished considerably, so the guy actually had a chance at first line now.

Stiles himself was content with warming the bench. Joining the team helped him to keep up the appearance that he was fine – which he was _not_ , obviously – but he never had to actually play a game. It was perfect. And if training finally brought him a little muscle definition, he would be the last one to complain. He had to admit he kind of liked that part of joining the lacrosse team.

When he’s almost done with dinner, he gets a call from his dad, telling him he’ll be covering an extra shift because one of his deputies ‘got sick’ (which Stiles knows is actually code for ‘I’ll be drinking from my not-so-secret stash of alcohol in my office because I can’t stand to be in that damned house right now), and he won’t be home until early in the morning.

“Fine, Dad” Stiles sighs, “Be safe, I guess.”

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine”

His dad hangs up the phone after a quick goodbye and Stiles goes back to cooking dinner, which he will now be eating alone…

He gets his phone back out, speed-dialing Scott.

“Hey man, you hungry?” Stiles says as soon as his friend picks up. “I made spaghetti”

“Sure dude, give me 20 minutes”

They end the call and Stiles sets the table, mindful to keep the spaghetti warm for a little longer. He might be depressed, but that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy human contact. Or, you know, _conversation_.

Everything’s better than sitting home alone.

Again.  


\---

“Scott, no.”

“Come on, Stiles!” Scott all but whines. “It’ll be fun!”

Stiles is unable to refrain from rolling his eyes. _Fun_ , right. And Scott isn’t just asking him for something mundane like marathoning a TV show or playing videogames all night. No, Scott is asking him to go to a fucking _party_.

Needless to say, Stiles isn’t interested.

“Stiles, we’re talking about one of Heather’s parties here!” His friend stresses. “ _Everyone_ is going”

Ah, so _that’s_ what this is about.

“So I take it Allison will be there, too?” Stiles asks, wiggling his eyebrows and stealing a meatball from his friend’s plate.

Scott frowns at him, chucking a string of spaghetti at his face for good measure.

“Dude, of course she’ll be there! I _have_ to go!”

“Give me one good reason why I should willingly subject myself to a night where you ditch me the second your eyes meet Allison’s and I’m left to somehow enjoy myself in a house full of people who don’t even know me”

“Booze” Scott deadpans.

He opens his mouth to object, but…well. It’s very hard to say no to alcohol. He’s a teenager, what can you do?

“Fine” he sighs, “But you owe me for this. Big time.”

Scott beams, going full dimples-and-doe-eyes on him.

“Dude, you’re the best”

Yeah…  


\---  


It’s Friday night and Stiles is regretting all of his life choices. _Why_ did he ever say yes to coming to this damn party? Sure, there’s beer – albeit crappy, but who cares – and the music isn’t that bad, but seriously. This was such a bad idea.

As expected, Scott had left his side the minute he caught sight of Allison, leaving Stiles to fend for himself.

He sauntered off to the kitchen after that, making sure he got the booze he came here for. It’s seriously the only good thing that came out of this.

So then he made his way over to the living room, to you know, dance. Socialize. Things he would have done before…

Not that anyone paid him any attention. Because everyone, wherever he looked, was _making out_. It started with Jackson and some random girl he didn’t know, so of course he looked away the minute he spotted them lip-locking. Only to spot another couple, which after a closer look turned out to be Scott and Allison. Seriously, it was like everyone was making out except for him.

So yeah, coming here? Bad decision.

He makes his way back to the kitchen to get another beer, idly wondering how long he’ll have to stay here. If it’d be up to Scott they’d probably be here for a very long time. Come to think of it, he’ll probably walk Allison home tonight like the adorable puppy he is.

And Stiles is not staying for that, no siree. But he’s not going out of here without at least being a little bit drunk, either.

Before he can get what is probably his fifth beer of the night, someone is spinning him around by his shoulders. When the dizziness fades, he’s standing face to face with a grinning Heather.

He can’t help but smile back at her. They might not know each other very well, nor do they interact with each other on a regular basis, but he’s known her since they were both in diapers. And then there’s the fact that he used to have a crush on her, of course. No biggie.

“Hey birthday girl!”

She beams at him, running a hand through her blonde hair.

“Stiles, it’s so good to see you!”

He raises an eyebrow. “It is?”

She nods her head up and down enthusiastically and, next thing he knows, her hands are fisted in the front of his shirt and she’s putting her lips on his. He doesn’t even have time to think about what they’re doing, she just grabs a hold of his hands and puts them on her waist, then pushes forward so he stumbles backwards until he’s against the kitchen counter.

They kiss, make out for a while, and it’s nice, sure, it really is. But it doesn’t make him feel anything in particular. Eventually Heather must catch up to it, because one minute they’re kissing and the next she’s pulling away with a scowl on her face.

“Are you gay or something?” She demands.

Stiles shrugs. “Sometimes”

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

He sighs and shrugs again. “Sure, whatever”

Without another word he turns away from her to get himself another beer.  
  


#  
  


_One year later_   


It’s funny, how people say time heals all wounds.

Because for Stiles…well, it feels like his wounds are only getting bigger. Not a day goes by without him missing his mom, without him wishing it would have been him who died instead of her. Everything would have been better that way. His dad wouldn’t be drinking, would have his mom to help him deal with the loss. No one else would really miss him.

And most importantly, Stiles wouldn’t have to deal with the mess that is his life right now. Remember how a year ago he convinced himself he could keep up a good appearance? Act like nothing happened and go on with his life?

Well, as it turns out that’s kind of hard when you have a panic attack every other day.

He doesn’t know what triggered them, exactly, but he hates them with every bone in his body. He’s just lucky no one saw him having one, yet. Scott doesn’t spend that much time with him anymore – even though he knows about the sporadic attacks he used to have just after his mom died – because he and Allison are an actual thing now. And his dad still spends his entire time working (seriously, the crime rate in this town should be zero by now).

So yes, he can keep the attacks under the radar for now.

_For now_ , because as the anniversary of her death grows nearer, the panic attacks seem to grow in both force and frequency.

The days drag by, giving him a torturous amount of time to count the days until the anniversary. It goes on for weeks, the panic attacks surprising him every time, still.

Until suddenly time is up.

It’s _that_ day.

He hasn’t slept in about a week – _insomnia_ , the internet calls it – and has barely eaten anything. He knows his dad has left the house already, isn’t even sure he actually came home last night. Knowing his dad, he probably pulled an all-nighter. He can’t blame him.

Stiles himself is still lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. For a guy who hasn’t been feeling any emotions for about a year, he sure feels a lot of fucking guilt right now.

His mother has been dead for a year now. A whole _year_. And he can’t even find it in himself to fucking _feel something about it_. He should be drowning in grief right now, or be angry, or at least feel the urge to do something like reminisce.

But no, Stiles doesn’t feel any of that. He just wants to forget, ignore what day it is until it’s over and he can go on with his life.

And that makes him a horrible son.

His mother doesn’t deserve this. She deserves him and his dad crying at her grave, bringing her flowers or whatever people do at the cemetery. She deserves to have her family grieving on this damn day.

But Stiles just doesn’t know _how_.

He realizes he’s crying, tears silently streaming down his face, and he rubs at them with the palms of his hands.

He drags himself out of bed, taking a shower, going through the motions without thinking. When he’s done, he goes downstairs, to the living room. Watches some TV.

He doesn’t hear a word from Scott or his dad all day.

His dad he can understand, the man’s coping. Sort of.

But Scott? Not hearing from him can only mean that his supposedly best friend forgot what day it is. Stiles would bet money on him being with his girlfriend right fucking now. She’s more important anyway.

Eventually it’s late enough for dinner, so he travels to the kitchen and rummages through the fridge and cabinets to find something to eat. Not that he’s hungry, but he has to make sure his dad has something to eat when he gets home, whenever that may be.

He still hasn’t been able to shake the damn guilt. It’s overwhelming, feeling the stupid guilt when you can’t feel anything else. He’d do anything to trade it for something else, some other emotion that’s easier to deal with. Anything but this.

His eyes fall on the shining set of kitchen knives on the counter.

Now, deep down he _knows_ that this is probably a bad idea. But he’s desperate, so desperate to feel _something_ , anything.

So he does it anyway.

He takes one of the knives out of its holder, adjusting it in his hand before hovering the tip of the knife above his wrist.

It’s like he’s experiencing tunnel vision. The only thing he can see is the knife and the bit of skin he needs to put it against.

He lowers the knife until it’s resting against his bare wrist, then puts more weight on it, making the knife cut through his skin and drawing the first droplets of blood.

It’s relieving for about the first ten seconds, where he can feel the pain overruling the guilt. But soon after that his brain is kicking back in, and with it common sense.

_What the hell am I doing?!_

He lets the knife drop out of his grip at once, lets it clatter to the kitchen floor. The guilt comes crushing back in tenfold, laying heavy on his chest. He thought his mother would be disappointed in him before, but this, _this_ is what would really disappoint her. She would kick his ass if she could see him right now.

He’s sweating, his heart pounding and although he can feel the panic attack coming up, he knows he has no chance of stopping it.

His hands are trembling, legs shaking and he slides to the ground, trying to get his breath back, to get some freaking oxygen inside his lungs, to stop the feeling of _choking._

When he feels the dizziness and nausea come up he knows he’s in trouble. He knows this is his worst panic attack yet. And he knows that there is absolutely no one here to help him.

He blacks out.  


\---  


When he comes to, his father is hovering over his body, looking worried and probably yelling. He can’t hear it though, the blood rushing in his ears overpowering everything else.

He can feel his dad’s hands cradling his face, trying to get his attention. Stiles blinks, trying to get his eyes to focus.

He has the fleeting thought that he didn’t mean for his dad to see him like this. He must have come home from work early, only to find his son lying on the kitchen floor (and what a reality check that must have been).

With a little help from his dad he moves into a sitting position, making him groan. Everything fucking _hurts_.

His dad takes in his wrist and the dried blood, eyes widening before they level Stiles with a pleading look.

“Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did”

Stiles looks away, unable to see the hurt look in his dad’s eyes. It’s answer enough for his dad, anyway.

“Stiles, I am so sorry” his father says, voice breaking.

He whips his head around to look at his dad, mouth agape.

“Huh?”

His father drags a hand across his face. “This is my fault.”

“No it’s not!” Stiles snaps. “Why would you think that?”

“Son”, his dad starts, moving to sit in front of him on the cold floor, “I’m never home…God knows I drink too much. I wasn’t here for you. I should have noticed something, should have realized that you’re not okay…because you’re really not, are you?”

The last part is barely audible and Stiles can feel his eyes start to water. He knows that there is no sense in lying to his dad anymore.

“No” he sighs, “I…I’m really not. I think I’m depressed.”

“God, kid” his dad groans, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You had enough to worry about” Stiles mumbles. They both know that the fact his dad was never home played a big part as well, but there’s no need to rub it in.

His dad sighs. “Stiles, I’m your dad. And I know I did a shitty job at it, but I’m supposed to take care of you.”

“We’re supposed to take care of each other” Stiles mumbles, remembering his mother’s words.

His dad looks like he’s been slapped in the face, clearly remembering the same thing. He clears his throat.

“You know, maybe it would be better for you to live somewhere else for a while…”

“What do you mean?”

His father looks apologetic, but he can see in the way his eyebrows are set that he’s determined. Whatever he’s come up with, it’s happening.

“I’m talking about a healthier place for you to live. A place where they can treat your depression. Somewhere your safe.”

Stiles’ mouth drops open as realization dawns on him.

“You’re sending me to a nuthouse, aren’t you?”

His dad looks pained, but nods. “I prefer the term mental hospital, but yes. God knows that they’re more qualified to help you than I am right now.”

His has to admit that his dad is probably right about that one. It would be better for both of them, if Stiles would live somewhere else. Try and get their lives back on track for real this time…

“Fine” He agrees, looking his father dead in the eye. “But you have to promise me something, first”

“Sure kid, whatever it is”

“I will go to that place to get better, but you have to promise me you will try to get better, too. No more alcohol. If not for me, than for Mom.”

His father has unshed tears in his eyes and his voice is gruff when he answers.

“I promise”

So that´s how Stiles finds himself packing his bags to move into a mental institution, at age sixteen, without a mother.

If only he knew what would be waiting for him in Eichen House…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooh, it’s almost time for some actual plot! What do you think will happen in Eichen House? Let me know in a comment :D
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://crazytvaddict.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' first couple of days at Eichen House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I want to thank everyone for leaving kudo´s or comments and everyone who bookmarked or subscribed to this story. It means a lot to me and really keeps me motivated!
> 
> Second, I want to apologize for the fact that this chapter is kind of short…it bugs me, but I couldn’t let anything else happen this chapter because that’s all planned for the next one. This chapter is more to fill up the space in between…so again, sorry for that, but it means the next chapter we’ll meet new people and I’m really excited for that so the next update probably (no promises) won’t take me that long.
> 
> I hope you guys still like it!
> 
> Now, I’ll stop bugging you all and let you read ^^

Eichen House is…kind of exactly what Stiles had expected from a mental hospital.

He’s standing in front of the large, black gates with his father, pillow and suitcase in hand. He really hopes they’re gonna let him keep his pillow, because there are no hopes of him being able to sleep without it. The building behind it – apparently dating from 1912, thank you google – is immense, with a lot of small windows all over the walls. Considering how close the walls are to each other, the rooms in there are probably quite small.

His father’s hand on his shoulder shakes him out of his thoughts.

“You ready to go inside, kiddo?” 

Stiles nods. He still doesn’t really care, either way. He just wants to get this over with.

Somewhere, a guard probably opens the gates for them, since they’re suddenly sweeping open in front of them.

He sighs. “Let’s do this.”

They walk up to the entrance of the impressive building, entering and going over to the reception desk. The man behind it looks up when he notices them standing there.

“Mr. Stilinski?” The man asks.

“Yeah” Stiles nods, surprised, raising an eyebrow when the man gives him a knowing smile.

“We were expecting you”

Right, of course they were. Very reassuring.

“If you’ll follow me, please”

The man leads them to the office of the man who presumably runs the place. He introduces himself as Mr. Davidson, shaking both Stiles’ and his father’s hand.

“Please, take a seat” he says, motioning to the set of comfy chairs in front of his desk.

When they’re seated, the man takes his own seat behind the desk and presents them with a stack of papers, which Stiles assumes is a contract of sorts.

They go over the contract together, not going into particular detail, but paying enough attention to notice a possible catch. Well, his father does. Stiles really just kind of sits there waiting for it all to be done with.

After they’ve all signed the papers, Davidson goes over the ground rules in the house with him, what time he’s going to be roused for breakfast and what time he needs to be back in his room at night. Stiles just nods along.

Then Davidson stands up, beckoning him and his father to follow him to Stiles’ room. As he expected, the room is small, with bare, tiled walls and a similar tiled floor. There’s one small, barred window opposite the door and a single bed against the wall, flanked by a nightstand with only a lamp as decoration. In the opposite corner of the room stands a sink and that’s it.

He doesn’t have any roommates. Apparently you have to earn that particular ‘reward’. Like a roommate is something to be _happy_ about. Anyway, the rule is that when you’re making enough progress in your recovery, you can apply for a roommate. Until then, he’ll have a single room close to the nurses station, under close supervision.

For now he’s just glad he doesn’t have to talk to anyone in the confines of this room. Glad that he has a space of his own, with no one to annoy him or keep him up at night (assuming he falls asleep at all).

Davidson asks him to take off his shoes, replacing them with slippers in a dull brown color. He also has to hand in his keys, wallet and phone, along with any other stuff that he might potentially use to hurt himself or others. He leaves his pillow and suitcase in the room before being led out of the room again to say goodbye to his dad.

And that is how his time at Eichen House officially begins.  
  


#

  
Stiles is staring at the ceiling in his room, unable to fall back asleep. He’s been drifting in and out of sleep for the past hours, but now it seems like his mind is too restless to settle down.

It’s somewhere between four and five in the morning. His room doesn’t have a clock, but he’s able to hear the antique one in the nurses station nearby, striking every hour.

Just as he’s about to fall back asleep, an orderly raps on his door with the message that he has thirty minutes to get ready for breakfast. It must already be 7 a.m. then.

He drags himself out of bed, brushing his teeth and hair before changing in the comfy clothes he brought with him; his sweatpants and a hoodie.

He steps out of the room, lining up against the wall with the other patients of his hall until they’re all ready and one of the nurses guides them to the kitchen/dining-room. He waits in line for his food, taking a seat at one of the vacant tables when he gets his breakfast, shoveling the food inside his mouth with the plastic spork (they aren’t allowed to use stuff like metal cutlery) without really tasting it.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. He has some therapeutic sessions, the first with his own psychiatrist – Dr. Morrell – and the other’s with a bunch of other ‘crazies’ (that’s what the other patients call themselves. Stiles needs more time to figure out what is so funny about it).

He spends his free time in the main room, unlike most of the other patients, who seem to prefer the rec room. The only other places they can go are this rec room – with a TV high on the wall, some shelves with various books to read and comfy couches and chairs to lounge in – and the patio, outside. All of them are supervised.

The main room is basically a large, open space with some tables to sit at, an old couch in front of large windows overlooking one side of the patio, some more bookshelves and washing machines that only the nurses and other personnel are allowed to use. Currently, one of the crazies is sitting cross-legged in front of them, moving his head round and round, following the movement of the machine.

The thing he comes here for, though, is the piano standing adjacent to the windows, facing the stone wall. His mom used to play the instrument when he was a kid and they still had one in the house. He would settle down on the ground next to her, closing his eyes and just listen. It was one of the few times when he was able to control his ADHD.

He plays from memory now, letting his fingers drift over the keys with closed eyes, letting the music sooth him.

After dinner and some more free time they’re allowed to take a shower, before it’s time for bed again.

The following days are more or less the same and he quickly falls into a routine. He gets woken up, makes himself somewhat presentable, breakfast, morning medication round, some free time in the main room, one-on-one session with his psychiatrist, some more free time, group session with the social workers, lunch, check-up at the nurses station, recreational therapy, visiting hour (his dad’s only able to come by on the weekends, so he hasn’t come by yet), dinner, more free time, night medication round, a shower, bed, repeat.

He finds himself dreading pretty much every session he either has with Dr. Morrell or the social workers. He likes Morrell, objectively, but the appointments they have are full of bullshit. Whenever he’s there, the doctor or social workers try to talk to him, pry into his mind with their questions, trying to get to the deep shit he has going on up there.

They’re all trying to ‘make him better’, trying to ‘fix him up’ and it frustrates him to no end. Can’t they see that he can’t be fixed?

He can only hope his new meds will kick in somewhere down the road, because talking about it? Not going to happen. He knows he should, of course, but he just doesn’t feel like talking to these people, these _strangers_ , who don’t even call him by his name. it’s always Mr. Stilinski, or even worse, his actual monstrosity of a name that they can’t even pronounce correctly.

So he decided to just stay quiet until he trusts them enough to let some of his walls down. Admittedly, it might take a while, but he’s got time on his hands. Eventually he’ll get there, he’s sure of it.

He’s playing the piano one morning, ignoring the outside world as his eyes are closed, shutting everything out and just be.

He can hear one of the social workers take a seat on the edge of the couch behind him, clearing his throat. Stiles braces himself for yet another futile attempt at conversation.

“Good morning, Mr. Stilinski”

The voice is gentle, male. Probably someone in their forties, estimated by the sound of it. He thinks he’s one of the workers from the recreational therapy sessions he attends sometimes. Not sure, though.

“You play the piano rather well”

The man observes. Ugh, he _hates_ small talk.

Stiles clamps his mouth shut, drowning out the man’s usual repetitive talk meant to reassure him and make him feel ‘safe’, like every one of them does. Then they tell him everything stays between them (they’re in a community room, for god’s sake!), nothing he says is wrong, he can tell them anything, blah blah blah…

Eventually the man leaves, Stiles ignoring him long enough to make him disappear. He sighs contentedly, focusing all of his attention back on the piano in front of him. It seems to be the only thing that’s keeping him remotely sane.  
  


#  
  


Finally, it’s Saturday. Stiles can’t believe he’s almost been here for a week already. He internally praises himself for the fact that he’s been here this long and hasn’t gone batshit crazy.

Anyway, Saturday today. Which means his dad is coming to visit.

He spends his day like always, spending most of his time behind the piano (it’s a miracle no one else seems to want to play the thing), until it’s time for visiting hour.

They’re all scattered around the main room and the patio, under close supervision from the orderlies and nurses, of course. On top of that, as a general rule, visitors aren’t allowed to take anything with them into the rooms.

As soon as he spots his dad entering the main room, he jumps up from the couch and rushes toward him. He isn’t really looking where he’s going, leading him to bump into someone’s shoulder rather painfully.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” The girl he clashed with exclaims, an apologetic hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

Stiles nods, taking in the girls appearance. She seems to be around his age, with dark blackish-brown hair, strong features and a look on her face that’s strangely familiar. He can’t seem to place it, though…

“Yeah” He says, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it”

She smiles, again giving Stiles the feeling that he _knows_ her, somehow, even though he’s sure he’s never met her before.

Before he can ask her about it, she excuses herself and vanishes to the patio. Oh well.

Suddenly his dad is standing in front of him, frowning as his gaze follows the girl.

“What is it?”

His dad shrugs, shaking his head. “She just looked kind of familiar, never mind.”

He then focuses his attention back on Stiles, giving him a small smile before enveloping him in a tight hug. Stiles hugs him back just as enthusiastically, sighing and letting some of the tension in his body go.

He lets go of his dad and walks him over to the couch, where they take a seat.

“How are you doing, son?”

“Fine, I guess” he shrugs. “I mean, I don’t feel like I’m making any progress yet, but…”

“It needs time”

He nods. “Yeah”

He just hopes his condition will improve sooner rather than later.

“So what about you?” Stiles asks, “How’re you holding up without my charming presence in the house?”

His father scoffs and rolls his eyes at him. He has an amusement smile on his lips, though, so it’s alright.

“I’m doing okay. Joined the A.A., actually”

“Really?”

“Melissa made me” his dad grumbles.

Stiles has to bite back a chuckle. “Did she now?”

“Shut up”

If he didn’t know any better…oh who is he kidding, his dad is totally blushing. It’s hilarious.

“I’m glad she did, though” Stiles confesses after a minute or so.

His dad nods. “Me too.”

It was comforting, the knowledge that at least one of them was slowly getting better. Maybe, just maybe, Stiles would be someday, too.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I have a general idea of where I want this story to go, but I’m just curious if there’s anything you guys would like to see happening? 
> 
> Like I said, I have a general plot line I’m following, but there are still a lot of blank pages to fill. Any ideas – I don’t care how crazy – are welcome!
> 
> As always, kudo’s and comments are immensely appreciated! I love you all <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is on an emotional rollercoaster and makes some new friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, new characters! Here you go lovelies, have another chapter!
> 
> Oh, and of course a massive thank you for all the comments and kudos and the like, it’s extremely motivating!
> 
> **See chapter 1 for more information on the mental disorders mentioned**

Stiles feels stupid.

So, _so_ stupid for believing even for a second that his meds would be enough to make him better. That he would just have to wait until they’d fully kicked in and then he’d be out of here in no time at all. That he’d been making progress.

Well, apparently he couldn’t have been more wrong.

He woke up this morning with a terrible headache, feeling like he hadn’t slept in years. His whole body felt sore. His mind was literally bombarding him with negative thoughts and insecurities. So because it’s the only coping mechanism he’s known for the past years, he shuts down his mind and goes back to being numb.

His life is becoming frustratingly repetitive and he has no idea what to do about that. He’s sitting on the couch in Morrell’s office. She’s talking to him, but he’s barely listening. Just stares ahead of him at nothing in particular.

“So how have you been?”

“Peachy” he grumbles. What a _stupid_ question.

She asks him a few more questions which he only replies to with non-committal grunts or shrugs. Most of the time he doesn’t respond at all.

When she asks him a question about his mother, he snaps.

“Shut _up_!” he groans, because he just can’t right now. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Morrell fixes him with a stern look, scolding him.

“Mr. Stilinski, you know as well as I do that there is no hope of you making progress on just your medication. Depression is called a mental issue for a reason. Your mind needs to heal, as well.”

He knows that, he’s not an idiot. He’s just not ready to talk about it yet. Normally he’d be thankful for Morrell’s patience with him, but right now her tone only pisses him off more. He stands up and stalks to the door.

“Fuck it, I’m out of here.”  
  
\---  


He skips his group session and spends his day slouching on the couch in the main room, staring ahead into space.

He might have been able to put a stop to his thoughts this morning, but now they’re back in full force.

He’s probably going to spend the rest of his life in here, because there is no way he will be able to talk about everything that led to him becoming depressed. His mom was hard enough to talk about on its own, but he’s _never_ told anyone about the other person he lost…

And now he’s lost his dad, too. Looks like he loses everyone he cares about one way or another. It’s his own fault for being such a horrible son to his father. A horrible friend.

That thought leads him to think of Scott. His so-called ‘best friend’ still hasn’t been around to visit him. And his dad only wants to see him once a week.

Stiles can’t blame them.

The few times he’s talked with his dad (or his dad had talked to him, really), he’d learned that Melissa had been coming over frequently to keep an eye on him. Making sure he was doing alright and taking care of himself. They even had dinner with the three of them – Dad, Melissa and Scott – once a week.

It probably won’t be long now until they realize they can have the perfect little family with the three of them.

Without Stiles…

He wipes angrily at the tears rolling down his cheeks.

They’d be better off without him, anyway.

 

#

 

It’s a few days later when his mood finally changes for the better. The headache is gone, and after crying his eyes out and some sleeping pills, he’s been able to get some sleep again.

At the moment, he’s sitting behind the piano, feeling like playing the instruments after a couple of days of numbness.

As usual, he has his eyes closed, soaking in the music and trying to relax and just enjoy. Until an unfamiliar female voice startles him out of it, that is.

“Hey Stiles.”

His fingers slip, making him play out of tune. He steadfastly keeps his eyes closed, though.

“How do you know my name?”

The girl doesn’t miss a beat when she answers.

“The voices in my head.”

The corners of his mouth tick up at that and he slowly opens his eyes, turning around to look at the girl who’s sitting on the couch behind him.

The girl is…well, stunningly beautiful. With long hair falling over her shoulders in some color between red and strawberry blond, making her green eyes stand out on her flawless face. She’s short, too. Probably not much taller than 5’ 3’’. He thinks she’s around his age, though.

“I’m Lydia” she says, straightening her floral skirt mindlessly.

“Stiles…” he introduces himself. “But you already knew that.”

A small smile plays at her lips when she gives him a once-over.

“Something tells me you’re going to have an interesting couple of days” she muses.

“The voices in your head tell you that?” he asks, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

She scoffs playfully, rolling her eyes before she starts firing off simple questions. Small talk. Somehow she makes him hate it a little less.

They remain talking until it’s time for group session and Lydia excuses herself to go to hers. That’s why he hasn’t seen her before; all patients are divided into different groups. Kids who’ve been there the longest (and have made the most progress) are in the same group. Same for the kids who just got here and aren’t doing fine at all. Then there’s a group for the in-betweens.

Before he knows it, it’s visiting hour. He gets ready to entertain himself for the next sixty minutes, but is interrupted when his name is called by the orderly who’s listing everyone with a visitor today.

He halts in his steps, frowning. It’s not Saturday yet, so he has literally no clue who would be visiting him. It’s probably just a mistake…

And that is when Scott walks into the main room.

To say that Stiles is not ready for this would be an understatement. So it’s no wonder when the sight of him makes him have a minor freak-out and he starts yelling as soon as their eyes lock.

“Oh _hell_ no!”

All of those negative thoughts crash back into his mind at once. How Scott abandoned him, didn’t see how bad his condition was until it was too late. How he’d be the perfect son for his dad. How he’s probably gonna tell him that they’re starting a family with the three of them, leaving Stiles here alone to wallow in his misery…

He starts shaking when Scott takes a step towards him, his lungs constricting painfully.

_Please, not now  
_

He falls to his knees on the ground, willing his lungs to start sucking in some air. He rubs a hand over his chest, trying to stop the pain there. His heart is pumping in his ears and he can’t hear anything besides the rush of blood in them.

He vaguely registers hands on his shoulders, someone trying to get his attention. A futile attempt, of course. He has more pressing matters to handle right now.

He tries using the technique Dr. Morrell taught him; deep inhale – 4 3 2 1 – hold it – 3 2 1 – slow exhale – 4 3 2 1.

He repeats it a few more times, long enough for his breathing to slow down back to normal and his ears to function normally again.

When he gets back to himself he realizes the hands on his shoulder and arm are from Scott. He roughly pulls his arm out of the boy’s grip.

“ _Don’t touch me_ ”

Scott flinches, looking like someone slapped him in the face and stands up, moving to walk away. Stiles doesn’t even get two seconds to be relieved before he turns back around to face him, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath.

“No.” he says firmly. “I came here to apologize and make things right between us. If that means you yelling at me, or hell, punching me, so be it. I’m not turning my back on you again.”

“Oh _now_ you wanna have my back?”

Stiles is _seething_ with anger. Scott has no fucking right.

“I’ve been like this for over a year, Scott! All this time I have been miserable and now I’m in this fucking nuthouse you suddenly want to be there for me?!”

“I didn’t _know_ Stiles! If you’d just told me, I – ”

“Oh, so it’s _my_ fault now?!”

“Gentlemen!” A stern voice cuts in, the man moving to stand between the two teens.

“Crap” Stiles mutters under his breath.

The man in front of him – Brunski – is the head orderly of the place. Whenever someone causes too much drama, he shows up. With needles and a taser.

“Is there a problem, boys?”

Scott shakes his head vigorously, while Stiles just clears his throat.

“No.”

Brunski shoots him a glare and Stiles has to force himself not to roll his eyes at the man.

“No, _sir_.”

The man is still giving him the stink-eye, but loses the defensive posture.

“Cut the drama.”

With that he turns around and leaves the two boys alone again.

“You should leave” he tells Scott, slumping down on the couch to face the patio.

For about thirty seconds he believes Scott actually listened to him and left, but of course he isn’t that lucky.

Scott sits down next to him on the couch, mindful enough to leave as much space between them as possible.

“I’m not leaving before I apologized to you, Stiles. I need things to be alright between us.”

Stiles scoffs. “Oh, then by all means!”

Scott makes a face at him, but schools his features back to something neutral when he notices Stiles’ patience is wearing thin.

“Look, I know you’re angry with me, rightfully so. I should have been there for you when you needed me. And I should have come to see you a lot earlier. There are a lot of things I should have done differently, but it’s too late to change any of that now.”

Under- _fucking_ -statement.

“I really am sorry, Stiles.”

Stiles sighs heavily, the fight and anger draining out of him.

“I believe you, Scott, but it doesn’t change anything. Like you said, it’s too late.”

“Too late for me to apologize or too late for you to get better?”

Talk about loaded questions.

He shrugs. “I don’t know yet.”

“I’m sorry I failed you as a friend” Scott mumbles.

Stiles stiffens, not sure how to react to that.

“Scott, you didn’t – ”

“Yes I did! I’m your best friend Stiles, I should have noticed you weren’t doing okay!”

Stiles drags a hand through his hair, desperately searching for a different topic of conversation.

“How’s Allison?”

Scott flinches, closing his eyes.

Okay, so that probably wasn’t the best thing to talk about right now.

“You sure you want to talk about her?” Scott asks softly.

“Yeah, I guess not.”

When it gets too awkward between them, Scott leaves with the promise to be back soon. They’re not okay yet, but they will be…eventually.

 

#

 

Lydia manages to sneak up on him again the next day at lunch, dragging him toward another table and shoving him into a seat. He blinks, looking from her to the other people at the table and back.

“Guys, this is Stiles” she says, waving a hand at him as she takes the seat next to him.

“Stiles, these are my friends” again motioning with her hand as she introduces everyone to him.

The girl on his other side, with the blond curls, voluptuous chest, and shy yet flirtatious smile is called Erica. She tells him she has epilepsy and Asperger’s.

On the other side of the table, across from her, sits a large guy with broad shoulders and an overall ridiculous amount of muscle. He comes off rather intimidating, but according to Lydia the boy – Boyd – doesn’t hurt a fly. Boyd suffers from both Gilles de la Tourette Syndrome and OCD.

The boy next to Boyd is called Isaac. He has blond curly hair and for some reason unknown to Stiles he’s wearing a scarf. When Lydia tells him he has claustrophobia and DID, Erica suddenly leans closer to him to whisper in his ear.

“He thinks he’s a British gay dude sometimes.”

Stiles looks back at Isaac with a smirk. That could explain the scarf.

Lydia just rolls her eyes at them.

“Yes…our Isaac here started with 10 alters, now miraculously has it down to three: his actual self, British queer and a werewolf.”

His eyebrows rise at that last one, looking back at Isaac and trying to imagine what that would look like. Isaac just gives him a toothy smirk.

“Don’t ask” Lydia sighs. “Anyway, then there’s Hale. He’s a couple of years older than us. I think his therapy session lasted longer than the social workers initially planned, but he should be here any moment.”

“Don’t forget Greenberg” Isaac adds with a heavy English accent, before looking back at Stiles. “He thinks he’s Jesus. Got at least one of those at every institution” he states matter-of-factly.

Stiles briefly wonders how he has never met any of them before, but then again he hasn’t been the most social person on the planet, lately. He hasn’t seen them in any group sessions, because they’ve all been here way longer than he has and are therefore in a different group, and they probably spend most of their time either in the rec room or the patio.

“What about you, Lydia?” Stiles asks, realizing he doesn’t know her background yet.

She shrugs. “I just hear voices in my head, nothing special.”

“Then why do they keep you here?”

“I wanted to. The voices like it here.”

Right. Makes sense.

He talks with everyone at the table, getting to know them a little. Most of them have been here for over two years. Boyd is the last one who joined their small group of friends, around nine months ago.

“You know,” Isaac says somewhere in their conversation, “I hate how people always assume we’re stupid. It’s not like we can’t be intelligent, our conditions just keep us from getting the grades we should be able to…it’s unfair.”

Stiles nods along. He couldn't agree more. They hang out for a bit longer, talking and eating their lunch, when suddenly everything changes.

The door to the dining room opens and an audible gasp can be heard. Their heads turn and they see a young man standing in the doorway, standing frozen.

Stiles takes in his appearance; the dark hair and eyebrows. His strong body, all filled out and fitting him like a glove. Those _eyes_ …

When they lock with Stiles’, the guy flinches and backs away from them, turning around and scurrying off to god-knows-where.

Stiles recognized him, though. The guy he thought had just disappeared on him all those years ago.  
  
  
 _Derek_  


Guess he finally knows what happened to him…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He’s baaaack ^O^ \0/
> 
> Comments and kudos keep me motivated!
> 
> btw, I still need to fill in a lot of blank space in this fic, so any suggestions for particular scenes or something are still very welcome!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles find each other and emotions suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a massive thank you to everyone who commented and to the kudos and the like you guys gave this story! It seriously means a lot to me <3
> 
> I also want to thank you guys for your patience, I know this update is pretty late, but I had some personal stuff to deal with. I’m thinking about dropping out of college for a couple of months to start a different study in September, namely ‘English language and culture’ ^^
> 
> Also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there will be 15 chapters to this story, including an epilogue. I finally made an outline for the rest of the story and I hope it’ll help me finish this story in a decent amount of time.
> 
> Anyway, I’ll stop talking now. Hope you all enjoy the chapter!
> 
> \- Love, Lily

_He recognized him, though. The guy he thought had just disappeared on him all those years ago._

**_Derek_ **

_Guess he finally knows what happened to him…_  
  


He blinks.

Blinks again.

Until he realizes he’s not breathing, heart pounding in his throat as realization washes over him in crashing waves.

He gasps.

Derek didn’t leave him. He didn’t _abandon_ him.

Well, not willingly at least.

“Don’t take it personally” Erica whispers, mistaking his baffled expression for offence, “He gets like that sometimes.”

Stiles just nods blankly.

“Where’d he go?”

He hadn’t meant for the words to come out, but he doesn’t really have control over his brain at the moment.

“Patio, probably.”

Stiles stands up, making the small group look up at him from their seats with raised eyebrows. Especially Lydia is giving him a calculating look.

He doesn’t say anything though, just walks out of the room, following Derek to the patio – assuming that’s where he is.

Sliding the big double doors to the outside space open, he inhales deeply, savoring the fresh spring air. He hasn’t been outside in ages.

He scans the large patio, checking if Derek is occupying one of the benches or launching on the grass in the comfortably warm sun like a lot of his fellow patients are doing.

He’s not.

Stiles frowns, not sure what to do. He doesn’t feel like playing a game of hide and seek with the older boy. Then again, it’s Derek. He can’t explain it, but somehow he feels drawn to the guy.

He sighs, sauntering over to a bench in the back of the patio where he sits down.

“Derek?” he calls out, scanning the place again.

This time, he catches movement to his right. He’s up off the bench in a second and before he makes the conscious decision to do so, he’s looking behind the shrubbery lining the wall of the patio.

Stiles finds Derek huddled in a corner behind some large shrubs (don’t ask him how), hunched in on himself and rocking back and forth. He’s hugging his knees to his chest, eyes squeezed shut tightly and mumbling something over and over under his breath that Stiles can’t make out.

Slowly, he inches forward. When he’s close enough, he crouches down, shuffling closer to the young man until he is able to make out the words clearly:

_It’s not real_

Stiles doesn’t understand what the hell Derek’s going on about. Of course he is real.

He’s surprised to find that it hurts him to see Derek like this. That he’s able to conjure up enough emotion for this guy to…well, care.

He carefully places his hands on top of Derek’s on the boy’s knees, squeezing lightly when he whispers:

“I _am_ real.”

Derek’s eyes blink open at that and Stiles can see the tears swimming in them. The young man shakes his head in quick, jerky motions. He slowly pulls his hands free to start worrying the sleeves of his thumbhole sweater. Seemingly a nervous gesture, judging by the state of them.

A single tear trickles down his face as he whispers in a soft, but broken voice:

“N-No. You never are.”  
  


\---  
  


Stiles has a hard time keeping his breathing normal, his jaw snapping shut in annoyance. He could feel his chest contracting with the building anger. 

Anger for Derek being ripped from his life all those years ago, anger for the fact that Derek’s refusing to believe he’s real. Anger for the people who apparently convinced Derek that Stiles is a figment of his imagination. Some kind of imaginary friend.

From what Stiles can make out of Derek’s panicked mumbling, he’s seen Stiles many times before in the institution, before he got there for real. So admittedly, those times he _had_ been hallucinating, but right now Stiles just feels the overwhelming urge to make Derek see that he does in fact exist.

He _is_ real, goddammit.

“Look at me” he snaps, not caring about the harsh tone he’s using with the young man.

Derek looks up at him briefly, but just as quickly averts his eyes to the side again. So Stiles hooks a finger under his chin, nudging his head back up and demanding he looks at him.

“I said _look at me_ , Derek.”

He can see the man breaking down further in front of him, scared to death. It only makes him more angry.

“For the love of God, Derek, _I am real_! I know you think you’re dreaming or something, that this is just your mind playing tricks on you, but you’re not!”

Then he remembers something he read somewhere a long time ago, about how to determine if you’re dreaming or not. Something more believable than pinching yourself.

“Count your fingers with me Derek. If you’re dreaming you have more than ten fingers.”

Derek lets him, following Stiles’ hands with his eyes as he counts every finger on his two hands, all the while muttering ‘it’s not real’ under his breath like the stubborn ass he’s always been.

When Stiles stops counting after the tenth finger, Derek visibly shakes, waiting for him to continue. For the prove that he’s dreaming.

“Ten fingers, Derek.” Stiles says, squeezing his hands briefly.

It is music to his ears when he can hear Derek’s mantra changing from ‘It’s not real’ to a very careful, yet hopeful ‘it is real’.

“Stiles”

His name sounds like a damn prayer on Derek’s lips and he can’t help but crack a small smile.

“Yeah, buddy.”

Then Derek catches him completely off guard when he fists his hand into the front of Stiles’ shirt and drags him towards his own chest, hugging him like a lifeline.

Stiles totally reciprocates.  
  


#

 

Stiles doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours later when someone clearing their throat behind them startles them apart.

“As nice as it is to see Derek’s made a new… _friend_ …”

A somewhat familiar voice starts behind them, “Can you two please explain to me what’s going on here?”

Turning around, Stiles looks up at her, immediately recognizing the girl. It was the same girl he bumped into at the visiting hour last Saturday. She still looks annoyingly familiar…

“Hey Cora” Derek greets her sheepishly, rubbing a hand over his neck.

“Wait, Cora?” Stiles says, looking between them until realization kicks in.

“ _Cora_.”

No wonder she looks so familiar. She’s Derek’s _sister_.

Cora looks at Derek, to Stiles, and back. Then she promptly sits down in front of them, making herself comfortable on the ground.

“So…you two know each other quite well, then?”

Derek snorts. “Trust me, I know stuff about him that no one would be comfortable with knowing.”

Stiles snickers, his mind drifting back to how Derek introduced him to sexual stuff. To _masturbating_.

He can’t help but realize that it’s been a long time since he’s thought somewhat happy thoughts like that.

He sighs heavily.

“God, I used to worship you so hard.”

Cora raises a mocking eyebrow. “This guy?” she asks, pointing her thumb at her brother. “Are you sure it was him?”

Derek shoots her a glare, causing Stiles to chuckle. “Yeah, I mean, apart from him being older than me, he actually _liked_ me for _me_. That really meant a lot to me, you know?”

“Yeah” Derek agrees easily, “It was good to have someone who understood what I was going through.”

“Hey, about that,” Stiles starts, “What happened to your stutter?”

“A hell of a lot of speech therapy.” Derek sighs. “It’s still there when I’m dealing with heavy emotions or when I get really nervous, but otherwise it’s pretty much gone.”

“…Exactly how long have you two known each other?” Cora butts in.

“I think I met you when I was like, twelve? So about four years now.”

“Then why do I have no idea who you are?” Cora asks, sending an accusing glare to the both of them.

“It’s complicated…” He and Derek answer simultaneously.

“I’m Stiles, by the way” He rushes to extend his hand toward her, realizing he hasn’t even introduced himself yet.

Instead of taking his proffered hand, though, her mouth falls open as she stares at him in shock. Then her expression turns dark.

“Is this some kind of joke?” She snaps, looking at Derek.

The young man only shakes his head, though and Cora cards a hand through her hair.

“You really are Stiles?” She whispers, almost…reverently. Which makes zero sense.

He nods and Cora turns back toward Derek, taking his hand in both of hers as she speaks.

“Derek, I am so, _so_ sorry” she says. “We should have believed you, I mean we’re your _sisters_ , we – ”

“It’s okay” Derek intercedes, “I wouldn’t have believed me, either. I didn’t anymore for a while myself, actually.”

Stiles clears his throat.

“No offense, but…I’m a little lost here.”

Both Derek and Cora look a little uncomfortable, but eventually the guy nods and starts explaining things to him.

“I’ve had trouble sleeping for a long time now,” Derek says, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Sometimes I would wake up calling for you.”

Well, that’s…something.

“With all the…trauma I’ve been through, the doctors thought you only existed in my head. They made me believe you were never real, that I made up all those times we met up to cope with the things that were happening to me. That’s why I freaked out a little when I saw you sitting at that table…”

Stiles should reassure him, tell him he’s here now and everything will be alright. Yet the only thing in his mind right now is a blinding rage. Derek being ripped from his life is one thing, but for people – _doctors_ – to convince him that Stiles didn’t fucking _exist_ …

No way. Just. No.

“Who are your doctors?” he demands.

“Dr. Deaton and Dr. Shaw,” he answers warily. “Why?”

He jumps to his feet, incredibly pissed.

“Because I’m going to give them a peace of my mind.”

Stiles is walking away before either of them have the chance to object.

 

\---

 

Before he knows it he’s standing in front of Deaton’s and Shaw’s office, slamming the door open without a second thought.

“You” he hisses when he spots the two men, pointing an accusing finger in their direction.

“You two should be fucking _ashamed_ of yourselves!” he yells, letting loose of all the pent-up anger inside him. “And you dare to call yourselves doctors! You are the most incompetent asses I have ever met! HOW DARE YOU?! HOW DARE YOU TELL HIM I DON’T EXIST YOU MOTHERFUCK – ”

Then Brunski storms in behind him, gripping him by the arms to restrain him – HA! – but before he can do anything, one of the doctors holds up a hand to stop him.

“And who might you be?” the blond one asks.

“ _Stiles_ ” he growls.

He’s met with blank faces, one mixed with anger, the other with surprise.

“I FUCKING EXIST YOU – ”

Suddenly there’s a pressure at his side, followed by an indescribable _pain._

His muscles contract on their own.

Then he’s collapsing to the ground.

 

#

 

Given the fact that he just got Derek back into his life, you’d think Stiles would be better for a while.

His side still hurts from the fucking _taser_ Brunski used on him, roughly 24 hours later. More than that, he can’t find Derek anywhere, which is disconcerting to say the least. Derek had been thinking Stiles wasn’t real, but…what if Stiles is the one who’s imagining things?

To say he has a bad day would be an understatement.

Currently, he’s sitting in front of the washing machines, following the hypnotic spinning motion of the machine and mumbling under his breath.

It doesn’t even scare him when suicidal thoughts start to roam around inside his head again. Looking at the spinning water in front of him, he has the strong desire to drown himself. Things would be so much easier.

It should scare him, but…he’s back to _that_ headspace.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there wallowing in depression, but at some point someone cuffs him on the back of the head _out of freaking nowhere_.

“WHAT?!” he snaps at the person behind him, spinning around.

Lydia is looking down at him with fire in her eyes, arms crossed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she inquires.

And what does she even care?

“He’s gone…” he mutters without emotion. “Everyone leaves me.”

She sighs longsuffering, rolling her eyes. “You two are absolutely impossible.”

He frowns. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Hale is pretty much in the same state as you are right now. He’s droning on about how he’s probably all dreamed it anyway, that he can’t find you anymore, blah blah.”

She makes a face and hauls him to his feet (she’s ridiculously strong for someone so small).

“What are you doing?” Stiles groans.

Lydia just tuts at him, dragging him along by the hand until they’re in the rec room. All of her friends are there, hanging all over each other on and against the couch…including Derek.

The young man’s eyes go wide as they meet Stiles’. Then he visibly relaxes and gives him a small smile.

Lydia ruffles his hair, getting his attention. “Go join the puppy pile.” She nudges him gently in the back for good measure.

He flops down next to Derek on the ground.

“Hi.”

Derek takes his hand and squeezes it. “Hey.”

It makes everything just a little bit better.

 

#

 

Stiles had been so overcome with his negative thoughts all day, that he hadn’t even realized that it’s Saturday today.

Until now, because his dad is standing right in front of him.

With _Melissa_.

And he knows it isn’t justified at all, the anger that flares back up in his chest at seeing them together. He almost wants to apologize for the fact that they have to see him on one of his bad days.

But almost is never enough.

“Ooh, look who finally showed up again”, he sneers.

His dad’s face falls and Melissa looks stunned, but places a comforting hand on his dad’s shoulder nonetheless.

She shouldn’t have done that.

“You put me here!” he yells, “You don’t want me anymore! _Nobody_ wants me! YOU DID THIS TO ME! I HATE YOU! I HATE – ”

And then fucking Brunski is back at his side.

Then there’s a needle in his arm.

Everything goes black.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna keep me happy and motivated? Send me kudos and comments!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek talk about what happened to them and Stiles struggles some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can’t believe the incredible comments this story is getting, thank you all so much! This will be the last chapter of this year and I’m not sure when I’ll be back with a new one (but I hope soon), so I’m gonna go ahead and wish everyone a happy new year!

After the fiasco of Saturday’s visiting hour, Stiles avoids Brunski like the plague. He hasn’t been sleeping much, and when he did manage to fall asleep, he was plagued by nightmares. His dad and Melissa had left after his outburst and he hasn’t seen either of them since. Maybe his dad will be back next Saturday. Maybe he won’t.

All he knows is that he feels guilty as hell right now.

Which sucks. It really does, because being depressed means no feelings, right? So why is it that every time he finally _does_ feel something, it’s something bad? Something he desperately wants to get rid of?

Unfortunately he doesn’t know how to accomplish that. Which is why for the first time since he’s been here, he opens up to Dr. Morrell.

She’s sitting across from him in her modern swivel chair, patiently waiting for him to talk. Not that he ever does. Until now, of course.

He clears his throat, shifting a little on the leather couch he’s seated on.

“I…feel guilty” he says in answer to her earlier question of how he was doing.

If she’s surprised he finally cooperates during a session, she doesn’t show it. She just nods, silently urging him to continue, showing him she’s listening.

“I said some things to my dad Saturday that I didn’t mean…well, maybe that’s not entirely true. But I do regret saying it. And…I don’t hate him. Not really.”

Morrell nods again, writing something on her notepad before looking back at him.

“You say ‘not really’. Does that mean there’s some kind of aversion to your father?”

He sighs, not sure how to continue.

“It’s not really fair to him, I guess, so – ”

Morrell cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. “I don’t care.”

He frowns, not ever expecting to hear those particular words from her.

“I don’t care if it’s fair to someone else or not. I just want to know how the situation makes _you_ feel.”

“Okay…” he sighs, swallowing before he continues. “I guess I can do that.”

She gives him a small, encouraging smile. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He doesn’t know what makes him do it, but he makes himself more comfortable on the large couch and starts from the beginning. The _very_ beginning.

“So, I guess this all started when my mom died. Me and my dad, we…didn’t cope well. My dad pretty much became an alcoholic and I put on this mask, pretending to be fine when inside I was dying a little more every day.”

Once he’s started talking, it’s like a dam is broken down in his head and the words just keep pouring out. He tells her everything, even though he leaves out most of the emotional talk. Just the story of what led him here.

And even though he doesn’t tell Morrell, he does acknowledge it himself:

He feels neglected.

His flood of words dies out after that, making place for the realization that his face is tear-streaked. Fresh tears fall down his cheeks in silence.

Morrell hands him a tissue, giving him another small smile.

“I think that’s enough for today. You made great progress, Stiles. I’m proud of you.”

He just nods, still too overwhelmed by his emotions and stands up to walk out of her office.

“Oh, and Stiles?”

He turns back around, eyeing her expectantly.

“It won’t hurt to confide in someone else, as well. Who knows, maybe the two of you can help each other out.”

He sends her the smallest of smiles, it’s all he can muster right now. He doesn’t know how she found out about him and Derek, but if she’s telling him to spend more time with the guy…he’s not going to say no.

 

#

 

A couple of days later finds Stiles in the patio, looking for Derek.

He eventually finds him in the far corner on the right, lounging against an oak tree. It isn’t close enough to the outer wall of the patio to climb it and escape, just stands there in all its majestic glory.

It’s a lot smaller than their oak tree at the park, but the resemblance makes him like it all the same. And the fact that Derek’s here as well doesn’t hurt, either.

“Hey you” Derek greets him as soon as his eyes land on him.

“Hey yourself.” He smiles and flops down next to the older boy. “So what’s so appealing about this patio that makes you spend pretty much all your free time out here?”

Derek raises an impressive eyebrow, smiling somewhat mockingly.

“You can’t tell?” he points at the tree for good measure.

“Ah,” Stiles sighs dramatically, chuckling when Derek rolls his eyes at him. “You know, it’s kind of funny how we meet at Eichen House again after all those years.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because ‘ _Eiche_ ’ means ‘oak’ in German.”

“Huh,” Derek says, looking impressed. “Guess that is kind of funny.”

“It is” he nods, trying to come up with something else to talk about. “So uhm…why did they put you in here?”

Derek frowns, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

“I don’t really like to talk about it.”

“I figured,” Stiles nods again, “but you know, sometimes it can really help to talk about it with someone else.”

“Hm, that someone being you?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

“Exactly.” He grins, then frowns lightly. “Unless you really don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to push you into something you don’t want. Bad memories, and all…”

Derek sighs. “I guess I can tell you the gist of things.”

Stiles is surprised for a second, but quickly sits upright to give Derek his undivided attention.

“I’m here because I’m being treated for PTSD.” Derek starts. “A few years ago, there…there was a fire.”

Derek takes a couple of deep breaths to calm himself, giving Stiles the opportunity to piece things together. Lydia had introduced Derek as ‘Hale’. He was Derek _Hale_.

His mind flashes back to the day his father had come home devastated, to how he’d told them about the Hale fire. Where everyone but Mrs. Hale’s kids died…

“I remember that…” Stiles says softly. “I didn’t know your last name was Hale then, but my dad told me about it. You and your sisters were the only ones to survive, weren’t you?”

Derek just nods.

“Wow, that really sucks.”

The older boy gives him a look. “You aren’t gonna tell me you’re sorry for my loss?”

“Would it help?”

Derek shakes his head no.

“Then no, I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Thank you.”

Stiles shrugs. “No probs.”

Derek looks like he wants to say something, but closes his mouth every time before he can.

“Dude, you can talk to me.” Stiles says, laying a hesitant hand on Derek’s knee.

Derek looks at him then, really looks at him. It might make him blush a little, but he’ll never admit to it. Then Derek nods slowly.

“Okay” he breathes.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“When it happened,” Derek continues, “me and my sisters were at the grocery store. Just for a few minutes. And then when we got back…” he has to clear the lump in his throat, though he can’t stop the tears from rolling down his face. “Everyone was _gone_. And it was all my fault.”

Stiles scoots closer, giving him a rather impractical sideways hug, but it’ll have to do for now. He hates seeing Derek like this.

Derek sniffs before he goes on. “We were supposed to be in there too, though. When she found out…she tried to finish what she started. And she was almost successful…”

He trails off there, hugging his knees to his chest and staring off into space.

The anger he’s now pretty familiar with starts to burn in his chest when he puzzles the devastating pieces together.

“It was Kate, wasn’t it?”

Derek flinches at the mention of her name and it’s all Stiles needs as confirmation.

“Did they ever prove it was her?”

He shakes his head, more tears breaking free from his eyes.

“No,” he says after taking a shuddering breath, “after she failed the second time, she just…disappeared.”

Wow. Derek must literally be scared to death. And as if that isn’t enough to drive someone insane, the guy thinks it’s all _his_ fault. No wonder he’s in this place.

He hugs Derek closer, making his head rest on Stiles’ shoulder and carding soothing fingers through his dark hair.

“It’ll be okay.” Stiles whispers. “I promise.”

It takes a while before Derek speaks again.

“So what happened to you, after…?”

Stiles cringes. “It’s not a very happy story.”

Derek scoffs. “Like mine was?”

“Right.” He sighs. “Well, at first, when you didn’t show up at the park anymore, I thought you’d abandoned me, you know? That you’d grown tired of me and didn’t want to hang out anymore. I was pretty bumped for a while. Then I met Scott at school and became best friends with him. Although I guess we’re not that solid anymore these days.”

Derek hums to let him know he’s listening, letting him continue in silence.

“Anyway, a couple of years after you were gone, my mom…well, she died.”

His voice hitches and Derek hugs him tighter.

“That sucks.”

Stiles snorts without much humor, but he appreciates the effort anyway. “Yeah. It really does. Anyway, after that I kind of derailed. My dad wasn’t really there for me and I just didn’t really know how to deal with stuff, so I got depressed. Even tried to kill myself once. That’s when my dad put me in here.”

Derek’s head shoots up from his shoulder at that, giving him an incredulous look.

“You tried to commit _suicide_?!”

Stiles shrugs. “Like I said, I didn’t know how to deal with stuff.”

“No kidding.” Derek huffs. “Promise me you’ll never try again, though?”

“Sure.”

“I mean it, Stiles. Whenever you feel the…urge, or whatever, to do something like that…just come to me first. Promise me.”

He smiles, unable to stop it. “Okay. I promise.”

 

#

 

One step forward, two steps back.

Stiles' insomnia is officially getting worse.

He can barely tell if he’s sleeping or awake anymore. He doesn’t want to interact with anyone, especially his doctors.

His doctors try to give him something to help him sleep, but he doesn’t want the stupid pills. Who knows what the damn things will do to him? So he rejects them all, spending his days either huddled up in front of the washing machines or under the oak at the patio.

He ignores everyone who tries to talk to him, because he’s not in the fucking mood. Not his doctors, not his new friends, not even Lydia.

Derek is the only exception.

Not to the talking, of course. They don’t talk about it. No, when Derek shows up, Stiles gets _clingy._ Which if you’d ask him is even worse.

It’s worse, because Stiles feels like he’s going insane. Because he fucking _knows_ he’s acting just as irrational as Derek was when he first saw him here. That his thoughts are ridiculous.

But despite that, he can’t shake the fear that settles in his chest.

Because what if Derek’s just a dream? What if he’s been dreaming this whole time he’s been in this hellhole? No one would be able to tell him.

And maybe the most crushing fear of all: what if Derek disappears again?

He barely notices Derek coaxing him to lie down every time he comes to see him. But he does it every time, because he often thinks he wakes up with his head pillowed on Derek’s thighs or legs. And he’s pretty sure he’s dreaming every time he feels Derek’s gentle fingers run through his hair.

He’s in an aware enough state of consciousness when the orderlies call bed-time, making him clutch Derek in a death grip.

“Stiles” Derek says softly. “It’s okay. You can let go.”

He really can’t, though. He tries to get his point across by shaking his head vehemently, clutching Derek tighter.

“Mr. Stilinski” Brunski growls above them.

Great, now he’s having a nightmare.

“You have three seconds to let go of Mr. Hale here and go to your room to sleep.”

“No” Stiles croaks, shaking his head harder.

“One…”

“Sir, it’s okay – ” Derek tries, but Brunski talks right over him.

“Two…”

He can feel Brunski’s hand on his arm now, none too gently.

“No, please – ”

“Three.”

He’s yanked apart from Derek, though it’s not without a fight. He kicks and tries to throw punches with all his might, but with barely any results.

“No! NO! _DEREK!_ ”

“Stiles – ”

He can’t hear what Derek’s trying to say, because before he can finish his sentence there’s yet another needle in his flesh, sedating him for the umpteenth time this week.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Stiles and Derek grow even closer ^^ It's gonna be a very very fluffy chapter!
> 
> Comments and kudos keep me going!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *sighs* feelings...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry again for the late update, my life is ridiculous right now.
> 
> Anyway, as promised, a little less depression-filled chapter with happy feelings \\(^-^)/  
> Of course that doesn’t mean the depression (and Derek’s PTSD) isn’t there anymore, but I decided the two of them (and all of you lovely readers) deserve a break, so enjoy!

He and Derek become pretty much inseparable after that.

Some days are hard, as much for Derek as for himself, but – and he has to admit he never would have thought he’d say this – Dr. Morrell was right. Confiding in Derek really _does_ help him. And even though he never actually said it out loud, he knows it’s helping the older boy as well.

So yeah, they stick together. And it’s good. He feels like he’s recovering a part of himself that he assumed had died long ago. Finding it again doesn’t make him happy, exactly, but he can admit to himself that it’s a step in the right direction. So it’s only natural that he and Derek are as thick as thieves, these days.

Unfortunately, _some_ people read their situation completely wrong.

During lunch – Derek is still absent, but all of their other friends are there – they only sit for a couple of slightly uncomfortable minutes, before someone finally makes a comment about the two of them.

“So…you and Hale, huh?” Isaac asks, trying (and failing _miserably_ ) to be nonchalant.

“…What about us?”

Isaac rolls his eyes at him. “Oh come on, Stiles! You’re really gonna feign ignorance here?”

Stiles scoffs and shakes his head. “I’m not feigning anything.”

This time Lydia seems to be the one going against him, looking at him and raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“You don’t have to lie to us, Stiles. We’re actually really happy for the both of you.”

“I’m not lying!” he snaps, getting agitated. “There is nothing between me and Derek, okay?”

“But you want there to be, right?” Erica asks softly.

“NO!”

They all look taken aback by his sudden outburst, all except for Boyd, who remains stoic. Strangely enough his lack of any reaction is what calms him down enough to get his thoughts back in order.

Logically speaking, he knows what it probably looks like when he and Derek are together. It’s not, though. It’s much more than that. What he has with Derek is comfortable, it’s safe. Their relationship and dynamic are such a central piece of him that he can’t help but cling to it now that he finally has it back.

And sure, Derek’s a very good looking guy, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be romantically involved with him. He doesn’t even know if Derek likes boys, let alone a boy like Stiles. Besides, and let’s be honest, he isn’t exactly jaw-dropping material.

And now we’re being honest anyway, let’s talk about one of the recurring dark thoughts in his head about such relationships. The thought that somehow keeps convincing him that nobody loves him. That nobody _can_ love him. He doesn’t deserve to be loved.

It _terrifies_ him.

“Stiles?” Lydia prompts, lying a comforting hand on his arm. “You with us?”

He nods, clearing the sudden lump in his throat.

“Yeah…sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Erica assures him, “we didn’t mean to push.”

He shakes his head. “It’s just…he deserves someone better than me, you know?”

They groan in perfect unison.

“Ugh, you sound like Hale.”

“You two really are made for each other.”

Right.

 

#

 

Stiles is dreaming.

Not having a nightmare. No, honest to god dreaming. And it’s fucking _epic_. Even though, regrettably, it’s not very vivid.

There’s flashes of skin on skin, a mouth crashing to his own, tongues tangling, battling for dominance.

The lips stop moving with Stiles’, only to start trailing kisses down his body. First his jaw, his neck. They trail over his chest, paying attention to both of his nipples. Suckling and nibbling on them until they’re hard.

Lower still, across his abs, placing a feather-light kiss on his bellybutton. Until those beautiful lips finally reach their point of destination.

The guy (at least his mind shows him that much) noses at the hair at the base of his cock, moving lower to mouth at his balls.

Stiles isn’t exactly aware of it, but he’s pretty sure he moans in pleasure.

He wants to scream when the lips finally wrap around his aching cock, going down on him like there’s no tomorrow.

He doesn’t care where the dream came from, or what it means. All he knows is that he doesn’t want it to ever stop.

Which, of course, is when he wakes up, panting and his dick hard as a rock. He groans when his mind is awake enough to let realization sink in.

If not for him waking up, this would have been the first wet dream he’s had in _years._

And even though for the longest time he hasn’t cared for getting off if any way whatsoever, now he can only say he likes it. A lot.

(He fucking _loves_ it, who is he kidding).

He’s still incredibly hard and horny and that, combined with his previous revelation, leaves him with only one option.

He quickly wiggles out of his boxers and turns on his stomach, humping the mattress until he cums.

This time he’s sure he’s moaning, his eyes rolling back into his head as he rides out his orgasm. He feels like he’s never going to stop cumming and he may or may not have passed out for a bit from the intensity of it.

It’s messy and he’s definitely lying in the wet spot. His mattress is probably ruined, too.

But he doesn’t give a crap, because right now? Stiles is feeling fucking _awesome_.

 

#

 

Stiles is sitting cross-legged under their oak at the patio, making a daisy chain (don’t ask) while waiting for Derek.

He grins manically when he spots the older boy walking up to him.

“Guess what?”

“I have nightmares that start with you saying those words” Derek groans.

Stiles gasps in mock offense, clutching at his chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Derek rolls his eyes at him. “I’m sure you don’t.”

Stiles gives him a pointed glare until he sighs heavily and finally gives the proper reaction to Stiles’ question.

“What?”

His grin is all teeth by now. “I had my first orgasm in months last night! And it was _amazing_.”

Derek grimaces, covering his eyes with a loud groan, before flopping back against the grass.

“I hate you” he grumbles, shooting a glare at him. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

“It’s what I live for” he says, nodding seriously. “Besides, I haven’t gotten a chance to embarrass you like this in years. Gotta make up for lost time.”

Derek huffs. “Lucky me.”

Stiles chuckles and goes back to his daisy chain.

“What are you even doing?” Derek asks, frowning up at him.

“This, my dear friend, will soon be your very own flower crown.”

That earns him a scowl. “I am _not_ going to wear a flower crown, Stiles.”

He snorts. “Yes you are.”

Derek huffs again, reaching for the half-finished crown in Stiles’ hands, but Stiles moves away from him before he can get a hold on it.

“Na-ah. Don’t even think about it.”

A minute or so later there’s a grass-blade tickling under his nose.

“Trying to make me sneeze, now?”

“Anything to keep my dignity and not wear that ridiculous crown.”

“This piece of craftsmanship will be beautiful, thank you very much. So keep your hands to yourself.”

“Or what?”

“I will sit on you.”

Derek remains completely serious for a minute, seemingly contemplating Stiles’ threat. Which is why Stiles does _not_ see his next move coming.

He’s begging for mercy after less than ten seconds, laughing hysterically as Derek keeps tickling him a little longer. Don’t ask him how, but somewhere after Derek’s tickle-attack he ends up in the older guy's lap.

Stiles grins at him, putting a daisy behind Derek’s ear.

“There”, he says, ruffling Derek’s hair. “Perfect.”

His eyes lock with Derek’s and suddenly he realizes how very _very_ close they are right now. He doesn’t fight the overwhelming urge he gets, just goes with it, even if it might have horrible consequences.

He kisses Derek.

And this time is completely different from their first kiss. For one, it’s not for practice. He’s _had_ practice. And when Derek – _sweetbabyjesus_ – kisses him back, it’s perfectly obvious that the other boy has had practice, too.

It’s soft and slow and he isn’t terrified at all. It feels… _right_.

He moans a little when Derek goes ahead and deepens the kiss. When they eventually break apart, Stiles is a little breathless, because he just kissed _Derek freaking Hale_.

He instantly snaps out of his thoughts when Derek mumbles: “I’m not even gay.”

Stiles cuffs him on the back of the head, because he can. And he totally deserves it.

“Seriously Derek?!” he exclaims exasperatedly, arms flailing.

And then Derek laughs, _laughs_ and Stiles feels actual butterflies going at war in his stomach as he remembers how the sound has always made him feel all warm and fuzzy…so he really can’t help but laugh right along with him, shaking his head at him fondly.

Then Derek looks at him with an intensity he isn’t used from the guy and with a somewhat shy smile on his lips, he says: “Come here.”

Stiles is all too happy to oblige and goes back to kissing him, humming in contentment when Derek’s arms tighten around his waist.

And if Stiles wasn’t sure he felt something before, he definitely does now. More than that, Derek makes him _want_ to feel again. He wants to feel all the things with this man.

Derek breaks the kiss again after they’ve been making out for a while and bumps his nose against Stiles’ before growing more serious again.

“Seriously though, I had no clue I was into guys.”

Stiles smirks, grinding down against the older boy.

“The bulge in your pants begs to differ”, he says cheekily and then as afterthought: “But it’s good to know you’re only gay for me.”

Derek chuckles and Stiles is about to lean in again to kiss him some more when Derek suddenly freezes. Stiles frowns and turns around to look at what Derek’s staring at behind them with an immense amount of fear in his eyes.

There’s a woman standing a few feet away from them. She’s wearing a grey tank top and jeans, her feet clad in some kick-ass boots that make him compare her to Lara Croft. Her hair’s a dark blonde, her cold eyes are boring into Derek's. Then she speaks.  


“Well, well…look who I found.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides under blanket*


	11. BONUS CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to pece87, who prompted me to write some things from Derek’s POV, you all get a little BONUS CHAPTER today. It starts at the last ‘scene’ from chapter 10 (the kiss, then the interruption…) and ends around the same point of the first ‘scene’ of chapter 11, so you might read some things twice, but that’s because the events overlap and are from Derek’s POV this time.
> 
> Hope you all like it!

Derek walks towards Stiles, sitting under their oak tree at the patio. He tries (and fails) to stop the grin forming on his face.

He still can’t quite believe that Stiles is actually here. After the fire, when he and his sisters had just up and left town – and thereby Stiles – for a while, he’d pretty much convinced himself that he would never see his best friend again. Not that that actually stopped Derek from ‘seeing’ him, which is how he ended up here in the first place.

So imagine his surprise when he suddenly pops back up into his life, for real this time, eating lunch with his friends like he’s done it for ages. Needless to say, it elicited quite the panic-attack.

But it _is_ real, because his friend is sitting right there. He looks completely different than the boy before the fire. For one, he’s clearly not a little kid anymore. It’s clear that he’s starting to grow into his body, muscles not very defined yet, but there all the same. And then there’s the fact that he’s nearly as tall as Derek by now.

He has to admit that he likes it.

“Guess what?” Stiles asks when he spots him, grinning manically up at him.

He groans. “I have nightmares that start with you saying those words.”

Stiles gasps in mock offense, clutching at his chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sure you don’t” he says, rolling his eyes.

Stiles gives him a pointed glare, trying to drag the words he wants from his mouth out with his eyes. He sighs heavily, giving in.

“What?”

His grin is all teeth by now. “I had my first orgasm in months last night! And it was _amazing_.”

God help him.

He grimaces, flopping back against the grass and covering his eyes with a loud groan.

“I hate you” he grumbles, shooting a glare at the boy. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

“It’s what I live for” Stiles says, nodding seriously. “Besides, I haven’t gotten a chance to embarrass you like this in years. Gotta make up for lost time.”

Derek huffs. “Lucky me.”

Stiles chuckles and goes back to fiddling with something in his lap.

“What are you even doing?”

“This, my dear friend, will soon be your very own flower crown.”

He scowls at him, because no. Just no.

“I am _not_ going to wear a flower crown, Stiles.”

Stiles snorts. “Yes you are.”

He huffs again, reaching for the abomination in Stiles’ hands, but the boy moves away from him before he’s able to get a hold on it.

“Na-ah. Don’t even think about it.”

Oh, he’s thinking about it. He’ll just have to make sure he comes up with something that Stiles won’t predict. Which is easier said than done.

The first thing he does is pick a grass-blade, using it to tease under Stiles’ nose, which twitches at the contact.

“Trying to make me sneeze, now?” he asks indignantly.

“Anything to keep my dignity and not wear that ridiculous crown.”

“This piece of craftsmanship will be beautiful, thank you very much. So keep your hands to yourself.”

“Or what?”

“I will sit on you.”

He has to suck on the insides of his cheeks to stop from laughing. This isn’t funny. At all. Though it does give him a better idea…

A few seconds later, Stiles is laughing hysterically and begging for mercy, trying to squirm out of Derek’s tickling hands. When he stops, he finds himself with Stiles in his lap. It’s giving him a weird sense of déjà vu.

Stiles grins at him, putting a daisy behind Derek’s ear.

“There”, he says, ruffling his hair. “Perfect.”

Their eyes lock and Stiles has _the_ look. The look that screams ‘impulsive action’ and usually doesn’t end well for one or both of them.

Which means that, in hindsight, he should have seen this coming.

Stiles kissing him, that is.

The first few seconds, Derek doesn’t do anything, too perplexed to process what’s going on. The first thought he has when his mind is back on track, is that it feels surprisingly nice. It’s good. Much better than the first time they did this. Which is probably not something he should think about right now.

So that brings him to his second thought, which is basically his body yelling that it wants _more_.

Which is why he throws any insecurity out of the window and deepens the kiss, drawing a soft moan from the other boy. They’re both kind of breathless when they break apart.

Which leads him to his third thought:

“I’m not even gay.”

He’s immediately punished with a (semi-gentle) slap of Stiles’ hand to the back of his head. Completely unnecessary.

“Seriously Derek?!” Stiles exclaims, arms mowing through the air in exasperation.

Derek can’t help himself. He laughs, surprisingly pleased when Stiles starts laughing along with him and shakes his head at him.

He smiles softly, looking into those pretty eyes that have always fascinated him.

“Come here.”

Apparently that’s all Stiles was waiting for, because he immediately goes back to kissing him. Derek’s arms tighten around his waist, making the boy hum in contentment.

Derek breaks the kiss again after they’ve been making out for a while (and to prevent things from getting…awkward) and bumps his nose against Stiles’.

“Seriously though, I had no clue I was into guys.”

It’s true. Of course he’s looked at other men before, though most of the time objectively, but this is the first time he’s actually kissed another man. Not that he has any regrets.

Which Stiles seems to be aware of, because he smirks and grinds down against the semi he’s sporting.

Damn him.

“The bulge in your pants begs to differ”, he says cheekily and then as afterthought: “But it’s good to know you’re only gay for me.”

He chuckles and Stiles is about to lean in again for some more kisses when something – or rather some _one_ – catches Derek’s attention over Stiles’ shoulder.

He wills his heart to stop hammering in his chest, but he’s frozen. Utterly and completely incapable of anything but shutting down.

It’s _her_.

She’s standing a few feet away from them, wearing exactly the same clothes as the last time he saw her. When she tried to kill him, again. Her cold eyes are boring into his, unrelenting. Then she speaks.

“Well, well…look who I found.”

 

#

 

Derek shudders, still frozen in shock and unable to do anything.

“What is it sweetie? Lost your tongue?” she asks, looking like she knows exactly what those words are doing to him.

He flinches as the memories flash inside his head, the way she used to call him ‘sweetie’ and she somehow always said the right things. How she used to touch him, made him feel special instead of weird, or different.

He hunches in on himself in a futile attempt to block the memories in his head.

The fire, the smell of smoke and burning flesh, sirens, the motherfucking _screams_ that still hunt him at night. The realization that his entire family – safe from his sisters – had gone up in flames, including his childhood home.

Then there are flashes of the second time she tried to kill them, again with arson. Thanks to the incessant barking of their neighbor’s dog, they woke in time to get out of the apartment before the flames engulfed them, getting out with only a couple of minor burns.

The bad memories are on repeat in his head and he doesn’t know how to make it _stop_. He just wants it to fucking stop!

His wish is granted when there is an ear-piercing scream resounding in the patio. He whimpers.

It isn’t long before the orderlies show up and she flees. He can hear Stiles yelling at them to go after her, to do _something_ , but it’s muffled, like he's under water, since he’s still a little lost in his head.

He cowers against the oak tree, pressing his lips together until their white to keep from screaming. After that, his mind goes numb, repeating the familiar words over and over and over…

_It’s not real._

He feels Stiles wrapping his arms around him, starting to rock them back and forth in an attempt to comfort him.

“Ssh, you’re okay” Stiles whispers, but it sounds far off. He does feel the kiss he plants on the top of his head, though.

It helps, a little.

Roughly two panic-attacks later, he’s able to take in a deep breath and let his mind drift back to the present. Cora finds them like that, with Derek still clinging to Stiles without intending to ever let go.

“Did he have another panic-attack?” she asks.

He feels more than sees Stiles’ nod. “Multiple, actually.”

“What happened?”

His hand spasms involuntarily where it’s clenched in Stiles’ shirt. _It’s not real_.

“Okay, so…you’re probably not gonna like this, but…well – ”

“Just spit it out, Stiles.”

“Kate showed up here today.”

“What?” he can hear the tremble in her voice.

“Yeah…she showed up out of freaking nowhere and fled as soon as the orderlies arrived. I told them to go after her, but…”

Derek looks up then, the urge to check on his little sister too strong.

She looks dazed, giving Derek’s cheek an absentminded stroke once before pulling her phone out.

“Excuse me for a sec, I need to call Laura.”

Stiles nods, remaining by Derek’s side and mumbling soothing words in his hair while he strokes a comforting hand up and down his back.

When Cora comes back, she slowly sits down beside them, wrapping her arms gently around Derek’s waist and laying her head on his shoulder. It calms him a little more.

“Laura’s coming tomorrow.” She mumbles, sighing warily. “I didn’t tell her about what happened yet, but she promised she’ll be here.”

Stiles nods. “Okay.”

“She should visit more often anyway” Cora mumbles, almost too soft to hear.

“Why doesn’t she?”

“Because she feels guilty, like Der. Maybe ever more than he does.”

Stiles huffs. “What is it with you Hales and blaming yourselves for things that aren’t your fault?”

“Kate used to be one of her best friends, so she just feels like she should have seen it coming, you know?”

“Well that’s bullshit.” Stiles says. “Then I’m guilty, too. I’m the one who encouraged Derek to go out with her.”

“It’s not your fault, Stiles” he says, because he just can’t let Stiles think like that. It’s unacceptable.

“Yeah, well, it isn’t yours, either.”

He’s about to protest, but Stiles cuts him off with a quick peck on his lips. “Shut up.”

Derek huffs, but complies.

“Well, that’s new” Cora says, looking between the two of them in surprise.

Derek feels his cheeks flush and looks down, thankful when Stiles answers her instead.

“Well, it’s only been a few hours or so since we figured this thing out ourselves, so you didn’t miss anything, really.”

Cora gives them a soft a smile, then places a kiss on Derek’s cheek.

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks” they both say, unable to keep from smiling, themselves.

“Hey, now you’re here, take care of him for a minute for me?” Stiles asks. “I need to make some arrangements…”

 


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back with another chapter! The first part of this chapter overlaps with the last part of the previous chapter, this time from Stiles’ POV. The rest of this chapter is also Stiles’ POV, as usual, and it will most likely stay that way for the rest of this fic.
> 
> Also, thanks to everyone who has commented, left kudos, bookmarked or simply read this fic, it makes me feel all kinds of awesome that this fic is getting such a great response, so thank you all so much for that!

Stiles can feel Derek shuddering behind him, still frozen in shock.

“What is it sweetie? Lost your tongue?” the woman asks, smirk on her face.

Derek flinches, hunching in on himself and Stiles instantly knows who the woman in front of them is:

_Kate_.

He wants to punch that fucking smirk right off her face, his chest filling with a blinding rage for what she did and that she even has the goddamn nerve to show up here.

For one single moment, he’s torn between staying at Derek’s side or strangling Kate. Apparently it’s enough time for someone else to butt in. He catches a flesh of strawberry blonde hair in the corner of his eye and barely a second later, all of his thoughts vanish at the sound of an ear-piercing scream.

Every person present at the patio covers their ears – including Kate – and Derek is honest to god _whimpering_.

Another ten seconds later, the orderlies show up and before he has the chance to do or say anything, Kate flees the scene.

But of course, the damage is already done.

He yells at the orderlies to do their fucking job and go after Kate, but they ignore him in favor of calming down other patients and trying to contain the screamer: Lydia, who is also yelling at them to go after Kate.

Not that any of them are listening to her, of course.

He turns around to see how Derek’s doing, which, unsurprisingly, isn’t very good. He practically sees red when he sees Derek cowering against the oak tree, worrying his shirtsleeves and mumbling that same goddamn sentence again:

“It’s not real.”

Stiles can’t bear the thought of showing him that it is, in fact, very real, so he just wraps him in his arms as good as he can and rocks them back and forth.

“Shh, you’re okay” he whispers, praying to god his tone is soothing enough and doesn’t show his anger. "It’s gonna be okay, Der, I promise.”

He plants a kiss on the top of Derek’s head and is startled by Lydia sitting down next to him.

“Who the hell was that, Stiles?”

He looks pointedly at Derek and sends her an accusing glare.

“I really don’t think that now is the right time to talk about that” he hisses.

“Right, sorry.”

She at least has the decency to look guilty. Then she stands up again, leaving without another word and letting Stiles focus his attention back on getting Derek to calm the fuck down.

All he can do for now is hoping Derek feels safe enough with him and wait.

 

#

 

Stiles has no idea how much time has passed, but he has to help Derek breathe through two panic-attacks before he comes back to the present. Even now it’s evident that he’s scared to death. Stiles wants to reassure him that he has nothing to be afraid of, but to be honest, he’s not so sure of that himself.

A couple of minutes later Cora finds them, Derek still clinging to Stiles like a lifeline. She grimaces.

“Did he have another panic-attack?”

Stiles nods gravely. “Multiple, actually.”

“What happened?”

Derek’s hand spasms where it’s clenched in Stiles’ shirt and Stiles wants to cry. He really doesn’t want to say this, talk about this – about _her –_ but Cora needs to know.

“Okay, so…you’re probably not gonna like this, but…well – ”

“Just spit it out, Stiles.”

“Kate showed up here today.”

“What?” her voice is smaller than he’s ever heard from her before.

“Yeah…she showed up out of freaking nowhere and fled as soon as the orderlies arrived. I told them to go after her, but…”

She looks dazed, absentmindedly stroking Derek’s cheek once before pulling her phone out.

“Excuse me for a sec, I need to call Laura.”

He nods, remaining by Derek’s side and mumbling soothing words in his hair while he strokes a comforting hand up and down Derek’s back.

When Cora comes back, she slowly sits down beside them, wrapping her arms gently around Derek’s waist and laying her head on his shoulder. It seems to be calming Derek a little more.

“Laura’s coming tomorrow.” She mumbles, sighing warily. “I didn’t tell her about what happened yet, but she promised she’ll be here.”

Stiles nods. “Okay.”

“She should visit more often anyway” Cora mumbles, almost too soft to hear.

“Why doesn’t she?”

“Because she feels guilty, like Der. Maybe ever more than he does.”

Stiles huffs. “What is it with you Hales and blaming yourselves for things that aren’t your fault?”

“Kate used to be one of her best friends, so she just feels like she should have seen it coming, you know?”

“Well that’s bullshit.” Stiles says. “Then I’m guilty, too. I’m the one who encouraged Derek to go out with her.”

“It’s not your fault, Stiles” Derek says, finally calm enough to talk again.

“Yeah, well, it isn’t yours, either.”

When Derek looks like he wants to object, Stiles cuts him off with a quick peck on the lips. “Shut up.”

Derek huffs, but complies.

“Well, that’s new” Cora says, looking between the two boys in surprise.

Derek looks a little shy all of a sudden, so Stiles decides to speak up for him.

“Well, it’s only been a few hours or so since we figured this thing out ourselves, so you didn’t miss anything, really.”

Cora gives them a soft a smile, then places a kiss on Derek’s cheek.

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks” they both say, unable to keep from smiling, themselves.

“Hey, now you’re here, take care of him for a minute for me?” Stiles asks. “I need to make some arrangements…”

 

#

 

He knocks on Dr. Morrell’s door, waiting for her approval before entering.

“Stiles, how are you doing?” she asks, clearly surprised to see him.

“Uhm, I have a favor to ask, actually.”

She nods, motioning for him to take a seat on the leather couch in her office.

“What can I help you with?”

“Okay, so, here’s the thing…” he starts, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants before continuing. “This is probably gonna sound very unconvincing and I doubt you’ll believe me, but – ”

“Let’s try not to make premature conclusions, Stiles. You haven’t even told me this unbelievable thing yet.”

He takes a deep breath, nodding. Right. Who knows, maybe the unthinkable will happen and he’ll get what he wants for once.

“I think maybe we need to get Derek’s doctors here as well, first? They probably need to hear this as well.”

She hums. “Do I need to be worried, here?”

“No! No…well, not really, it’s just…can you just get them here, please?” Stiles sighs, unsure how to continue for the moment.

She nods, paging the two doctors in question. A couple of minutes later, both Dr. Deaton and Dr. Shaw enter her office. Morrell tells them to take a seat and sits back in her own chair, looking at Stiles.

“Whenever you’re ready, Stiles.”

He takes a deep breath. “Okay, so…something happened this afternoon in the patio…”

He pauses, expecting someone to interrupt him. When none of the doctors do, he continues.

“There was a woman from Derek’s past who caused him to have a bunch of severe panic attacks this afternoon…”

For some reason he doesn’t want to tell them the whole story about Kate. He has a feeling they don’t even know and, if they do, that they tried to tell Derek that wasn’t real, either. Anyway, it won’t help his case here, is what he’s getting at.

“…She just showed up out of nowhere and well…Derek didn’t deal with it very well. He’s ridiculously scared right now and I kind of don’t want to leave him by himself with the state he’s in right now, so what I’m asking is if maybe I could get a shared room with him?”

He ends his explanation there, letting the three doctors think about it for a while. It doesn’t take them that long, unfortunately.

“So what you’re saying is that you think you have the right to a shared room with Derek, because he had another panic episode this afternoon?” Deaton questions. “I’m sorry Stiles, but it doesn’t work that way.”

“What I’m saying is that he really shouldn’t be alone right now! I really think sharing a room with me, someone he _trusts_ , will be the best thing for him!”

“Absolutely not!” Shaw exclaims, his jaw set and frown heavy on his forehead. “You know the rules, Mr. Stilinski, a shared room is something you have to earn around here and something tells me that neither you nor Mr. Hale have made enough progress for that.”

“And whose fault is that?!” Stiles snaps back before he can help it. “I’m sorry, but as far as I know, _you_ are the one who convinced him that I didn’t exist! So from where I’m standing, it looks like Derek would in fact have made great progress if it weren’t for you!”

He’s panting, chest heaving as he looks around the room. Shaw is stunned into silence (serves him right), Deaton looks pensive and Morrell looks like she has a hard time keeping herself from bursting into laughter.

“I have to admit that Mr. Hale _has_ shown improvement since Mr. Stilinski showed up.” Deaton relents after a minute or so.

“You can’t be serious” Shaw stutters.

Morrell nods, sending him a quick smile. “I would have to agree with you there. Also, Stiles has opened up a whole lot more since he’s been talking to Derek.”

Shaw’s face grows kind of red, whether from anger or embarrassment Stiles doesn’t know.

“B-Butt…the rules!”

“I think we can handle the rest without your help, Doctor Shaw.” Morrell says, standing up and walking the stunned man to the door, then closes it behind him.

“Thanks” Stiles breathes, a little stunned himself that they’re actually agreeing with him.

“Don’t thank me just yet, kiddo.”

Or maybe not.

“Look, Dr. Shaw was right about the fact that there are rules to be followed in this kind of situation. _But_ ,” she continues before he has a chance to rudely interrupt her, “I’ve seen you and Derek together and I agree that you have a good influence on each other.”

“I assume you’ve already come up with a solution?” Deaton asks, and is that amusement in his voice?

She waves a dismissive hand in his direction. “Of course I have.”

“Okay…” Stiles says, looking between the two, “…you plan on telling me this solution?”

She sits back in her chair again, folding her hands in her lap.

“Well, you will get a room with Derek – ”

“YES!” he screams, jumping up from the couch to thank her, but she holds up a calming hand and gives him a stern look.

“Stiles, let me finish.”

He sits down again, heart beating rapidly in his chest at the possibility that this might not be as simple as he’d thought.

“You will get the room, but it’s temporary. Like a trial run, so to speak. If any of you shows any sign of relapse, you’re both going back to single rooms. Are we clear?”

Stiles nods heavily. He can totally live with that. Besides, him and Derek sharing a room can only be good for them. He sighs at the possibilities. He might even get some actual _sleep_ now.

“Alright then.” She nods as well. “You’ll be hearing from me or Dr. Deaton when everything is arranged. Now go back to that man of yours.”

Stiles chokes on his spit, because _how does she even know about that_?!

Morrell winks at him, standing up and shooing him out of the door. “Go!”

He smiles. Go he will.

 

#

 

He finds Derek and Cora still in the patio under their oak tree. He doesn’t even try to hide his beaming smile, because he knows it would be impossible at this point.

“Hey you two” he greets them, reclaiming his seat at Derek’s side and taking Derek’s hand in his, tangling their fingers together.

It earns him a shy smile from his…boyfriend? Is that what they are now? They should probably have a talk about that. Not now, though.

“Miss me?” he asks.

“Mwah” Derek shrugs.

“Shut up, you totally missed me” Stiles mutters, trying not to let the doubt that’s suddenly trying to crush his chest show.

Derek moves his mouth directly by Stiles’ ear, whispering: “Always” and squeezes his hand briefly.

“Ugh, get a room you two” Cora groans.

Ah, that’s right, he had something to say before he got distracted by the ridiculously handsome young man beside him.

“That’s what I’ve been doing just now, actually.”

“What?” Derek says, disbelief clear in his voice and on his face.

“Yeah, I went to both our doctors and told them we need a room together like asap. They weren’t all happy about it, but I made it happen, so.”

“Stiles…” Derek whispers and Stiles doesn’t know how to interpret the expression on his face.

And then it dawns on him that he didn’t even ask Derek if he was okay with them sharing a room before asking their doctors and oh god what if he hates Stiles now?! So he quickly says:

“Unless you don’t want to, of cmwhhm…”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, because Derek literally grabbed his face into his hands and is currently kissing him senseless.

He licks his lips when Derek lets him go again, still a little stunned. “I take it you don’t mind, then?”

Derek just rolls his eyes at him and shakes his head no. Alright then. He can feel the beaming smile growing back onto his face.

Cora looks at them, expression a little worried.

“What?”

“Do you guys have access to… _protection_ , in here?”

Derek buries his face in his hands with a groan and Stiles…well, he gapes. Very unattractively. Because oh my god.

“OH MY _GOD_! You seriously think we are having S – ”

And that’s the point where Derek thankfully slaps a hand over his mouth before the whole patio can hear the end of that sentence. He knows him so well.

“Hey, I know what happens when ‘two boys like each other very much’.” She says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Please leave” Derek groans, shoving her away halfheartedly.

Cora snorts, smacking a wet kiss on Derek’s cheek before standing up and telling them she’ll see them tomorrow with Laura.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she yells over her shoulder, grinning evilly.

This time they both groan. “ _Cora!_ ”

She cackles smugly until she’s left the patio.

 

#

 

Later that night, he and Derek are in their room. Their _shared_ room, because Stiles actually pulled it off.

They’re lying down, facing each other, in the same bed. Because they fucking can. And it’s amazing already.

And they aren’t even touching. Just _looking_ in each other’s eyes like it’s all they’ll ever need. Stiles has to admit that he wouldn’t mind doing this for the rest of his life, for sure.

“I still can’t believe we actually share a room now” Derek says softly, breaking the comfortable silence they were in.

“You and me both, buddy.” Stiles whispers, smiling gently at the young man in front of him.

They’re quiet again for a couple of minutes, until Derek breaks the silence again.

“Can I…?”

He raises his arm to try and make clear what he wants and Stiles immediately nods fervently, shuffling closer until he’s snuggled up against Derek, who’s put his arm around Stiles and it’s just really, _really_ nice. He sighs contentedly.

“So…are we like, boyfriends now?” Stiles asks carefully after another couple of minutes have passed.

“Well, unless you have a better word for what we are, I think ‘boyfriends’ sounds about right.”

Stiles smirks. Derek should really know better than to ask him something like that.

“Sure I do! We could be ‘lovers’, or ‘beloveds’, or ‘significant others’, or ‘soulmates’, or – ”

“Stiles, please go to sleep.” Derek interrupts him with a longsuffering sigh.

He chuckles, placing a quick goodnight’s kiss on his _boyfriend’s_ lips before nuzzling back into his chest and closing his eyes.

Sleep. He could do that.

 

#

 

As promised, Laura shows up with Cora during visiting hour the next day.

The woman’s freaking gorgeous, which apparently runs in the family or something. Damn, those Hale-genes are good. She has long, dark brown hair that flows over her shoulders in natural waves and her face is just as flawless as the ones of her siblings. Even her eyes are the same as Derek’s.

So yeah, gorgeous.

Stiles doesn’t know if Derek and he are that obvious or if she’s just really observant (though he knows it’s probably the former), but she immediately narrows her eyes at them when she sees them together.

“…Who are you?” she asks Stiles, rather bluntly.

“Uh, I’m…Stiles, I – ”

Apparently the Hales have a thing for interrupting him, because next thing he knows she’s marching up to him and wrapping him a hug so strong he thinks his lungs might get crushed.

“So you _do_ exist” she whispers, almost in awe.

“Uh, yeah” he squeaks, seriously having a hard time breathing now and patting Laura on her arm to make her let go of him and free his lungs.

She steps back hastily, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, it’s just he used to have these nightmares where he would call out to ‘Stiles’ and…I guess he told me about you but I never wanted to believe him and it just didn’t really make any sense until now…”

“Lau, you’re kinda rambling” Cora butts in, rolling her eyes at her older sister.

“Right, right, I’m sorry. And you!” she exclaims, moving towards Derek. “I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am for not believing you and not being there for you and – ”

Derek just wraps his arms around her and gives her a crushing hug of his own, effectively shutting her up.

“Okay,” she says, breathing in deeply when she steps back from her brother. “So, is that why you wanted me to come? So you could introduce me to Stiles?”

And just like that, the mood is ruined.

“What…why are your faces falling like that? Did I say something wrong?”

Stiles notices that both Derek and Cora remain silent, unwilling or unable to tell their big sister what is going on. So again, he decides to step in and do it for them. This time he would do it right, though. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

“Kate showed up here yesterday.”

“Excuse me, I don’t think I heard you right there.” She says, voice scarily calm.

“You heard him, Lau.” Cora mutters. “She’s back.”

Laura chances a glance at her brother and when he nods in affirmation, she explodes.

“ARE YOU _KIDDING_ ME?! How did that psycho even get _in_ here?! I swear to god, when I see her again I will be the one to kill _her_!”

Cora sighs heavily and Stiles is kinda startled when he sees the unshed tears in her eyes.

“Laura, we can’t prove anything. No one has ever believed us.”

Stiles frowns. “That’s not true, though. I don’t remember everything about that case, but I’m pretty sure my dad didn’t believe it was an accident.”

“What’s your dad got to do with this?” Cora asks at the same time that Laura asks in surprise: “Your dad is the Sheriff?”

Stiles nods. “He is. He was pretty shaken up by it all.”

Laura nods grimly.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. First, I’ll try to get a restraining order, maybe talk to the Sheriff while I’m at it. I don’t want any of you to be alone _ever,_ you hear me? Cora you’re coming with me.”

They nod, saying goodbye to Derek’s sisters. Then Laura turns to Derek one more time.

“She won’t get away with this Derek, I promise. Not this time.”

Stiles hopes to god that she’s right.

 

#

 

Have you ever heard of ‘Murphy’s law’? You know, the one that pretty much states that anything that _can_ go wrong, _will_ go wrong?

Well, Stiles is starting to believe that right about now.

It was only yesterday that Laura had found out about the whole Kate-thing. Only yesterday that she told them she wouldn’t get away with this.

They’d gone to bed feeling reassured, like things would be okay. But now it’s morning and he’s standing with Derek in the grand hallway with the stairs, chaos all around them, but they’re standing frozen. Looking up.

At the dead body hanging from the freaking ceiling.

And if that isn’t enough to either paralyze or upset the already emotionally fragile, there are three words scrawled messily on the corps’ naked upper body:  


_YOU_

_ARE_  
  
 _NEXT_

 


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, you guys, I am so sorry to leave you guys hanging like that for so long, I suck.  
> So this chapter clearly took me a while and again I am so sorry for that. This chapter really wasn’t easy to write somehow, I felt like I was never going to get it right more than once. But, it’s done and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for being so patient and once more a million thank yous to everyone who has left a comment or kudos or just read it/follows it. They’re the things that keep pushing me to finish this story (and the end is so close) and to make it the best it can possibly be. Love you all.

Stiles wishes he could say that he was there for Derek when the older boy was thrown right into a massive panic-attack, his body warring between fight and flight and needing two orderlies to secure him.

However, he can’t say that, because when Derek goes completely berserk beside him, Stiles suddenly finds it very hard to breathe himself. It feels like he’s drowning again, the sound of his blood rushing through his ears the only thing he hears.

He stairs transfixed at the dead body, unable to remove his eyes from the god-awful words written on it, as much as he wants to.

_You are next. You are next. You are next._

His mind completely shuts down, incapable of dealing with the possible meanings of the words. Incapable of dealing with how much it would fucking _hurt_. He knows it would be the last thing that is needed to tip him over the edge and reach a point of no return. It would break him completely.

It would kill him.

_Not Derek. Not him. Not Derek._

He can’t breathe, he can’t think, he can’t do anything. People are running amok all around him, yet the only thing he can do is stand there like a statue. Completely and utterly _useless_.

At some point, he’s reminded by something or someone to breathe. He thinks someone’s calling his name, but he’s still too out of it to register it fully. His mind still too slow to comprehend. It kick-starts when someone cups his face with two big, gentle hands and calls his name again.

“ _Stiles!_ ”

He blinks, bringing his eyes to focus on the man in front of him. it’s one of the deputies that work for his father, investigating the crime scene.

Jordan Parrish.

“Hey, you back with me?” the deputy asks, worried eyes roaming over his face.

Stiles takes a couple of deep breaths before answering, trying to get his breathing back under control. Eventually, he nods. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Good.” Parrish nods, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. “Got me worried there for a sec, kid. I’m glad you’re okay, given the circumstances.” He grimaces. “Won’t be long until your dad gets here.”

Tears spring into his eyes at the mere mention of his dad. He hasn’t realized until now how much he actually misses his father. He wants the man to be here, _needs_ him to be. He could really do with some fatherly comfort right now, pride be damned.

He mumbles a thanks to Parrish, trying to somewhat hide his tears.

As Parrish predicted, it doesn’t take his father much longer to arrive at the scene. However, instead of going into full blown ‘Sherriff-mode’ (like Stiles is expecting), the first thing he does when he enters is demand to know where his son is.

Parrish points him to Stiles’ general direction and a few seconds later his dad is standing right in front of him and he throws himself into his father’s strong arms, welcoming the familiar and comforting touch.

“Hey now, you’re okay” his father says softly, stroking down his hair and planting a kiss on top of his head like he used to do when Stiles was a kid. A strangled sob escapes him and he squeezes his dad tighter.

“I’m s-so sorry…” Stiles hiccups, trying to apologize for his behavior the last time he saw the man.

His dad squeezes his neck to shut him up. “None of that. All I care about is that you are okay right now, understood?”

He nods, choking on another sob.

“I can’t lose him, Dad. Not again. I can’t…”

“Shh,” his father shushes him, “Why don’t we sit down for a bit and then you can tell me who this ‘him’ is you’re talking about, hm?”

Stiles takes a shuddering breath. He really has some explaining to do.

 

#

 

It doesn’t take that long to find Derek. He’s sitting at a table in the main room, along with the rest of their friends. The second Stiles spots him, he rushes towards him and starts apologizing profusely for not being there for him when he needed him.

Derek just gives him a small, but reassuring smile, telling him he’s okay now. Apparently Boyd and Isaac got him out of there and into the main room to calm down before the orderlies had to sedate him. Stiles sends both boys a thankful smile.

Then his father coughs pointedly behind him, startling him. He’d almost forgotten the man was there. He turns around to address him.

“Dad, these are my friends: Lydia, Erica, Isaac and Boyd.” He introduces them one by one. “And this,” he continues, placing gentle hands on Derek’s shoulders, “is Derek. My boyfriend.”

His dad’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then come back together in what might be judgment as he looks at the clearly older boy.

“Now, before you say anything…there’s a story there.”

“Go on.” His father tells him, looking from him to Derek with an expression that tells him this better be good.

“Okay, so…remember that time when I was a kid and I wanted to go to the park every day for no apparent reason?”

His dad nods, so Stiles continues.

“Well, Derek was the reason. I met him there one day and we just kind of clicked when we found out we both had something that made us different. I was so happy to finally have found someone that understood me, who knew what it was like to be different. So anyway, we became best friends and hung out at the park as often as we could.”

His father’s eyebrows were still set in a frown, but weren’t that judgmental anymore. More confused.

“Why didn’t you ever tell us you made a friend? Your mother and I would have been happy for you, kiddo.”

“We pinky swore on it.” Stiles shrugs. “They’re sacred.”

“Right.” His father concedes, rolling his eyes at him fondly. “So then what happened? Your infatuation with the park ended as abruptly as it started. Does it have something to do with you getting admitted here?” He asks, the last question directed at Derek.

They both nod.

“It does, sort of. I didn’t know that, though. To me, he just…disappeared one day. I thought he didn’t want to be friends anymore.”

“Well, that explains the sulking.” His dad offers.

“I was _not_ sulking…”

As if on cue, everyone at the table sends him a mocking, one-raised-eyebrow glare.

“Ugh, fine.” He grumbles. “Anyway, that brings me to the reason why he disappeared on me.”

He gives Derek’s shoulders a supportive squeeze before he continues. “Do you remember the Hale fire, Dad?”

His dad’s eyes light up, clearly connecting the dots in his mind. Then his eyes widen.

“You’re Derek _Hale_.” He breathes, then nods to himself. “Your sister Laura paid me a visit at the station, going on about how this Kate person was trying to kill your entire family. How she was the one to set the fire…” He huffs in annoyance. “I never got to solve that case.”

“So does that mean you believe it was Kate?” he asks, playing with the hairs at Derek’s nape to try and keep his mind from the fire and that wretch of a woman.

His dad nods, but his face is grim. “I’ll get back in touch with Laura to try and figure things out, but…as much as it pains me to say it, I can’t promise anything more yet. We don’t know the first thing about this Kate’s whereabouts and have zero proof.”

Stiles nods. “Well, you should start with the crime scene out there, ‘cause we’re pretty sure that was her.

His dad sighs, pulling Stiles into a hug as he says his goodbyes. He even puts a reassuring hand on Derek’s shoulder.

“We’ll get her, I promise. In the meantime, I’ll make sure security in this place gets amplified.”

“Thanks Dad.” Stiles tells him.

“No problem. You kids be safe.”

With that he’s gone, off to do his job.

“So.” Lydia speaks up, drawing the attention from everyone at the table. “Time to come up with a plan.”

“Bloody hell, Lydia.” Isaac groans, looking skywards as if asking for strength.

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing. We’ll just be sitting ducks, waiting until something like this happens again.”

Erica looks uncomfortable, her eyes glued to the table so she won’t have to look anyone in the eyes. Boyd’s eyes are blinking repeatedly as his Tourette starts acting up. Isaac keeps mumbling British profanities under his breath.

Derek takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. Then, to Stiles’ utter surprise, he says:

“She’s right.”

Lydia smiles at him. “Of course I am.”

Stiles sighs warily, then finally leaves his place behind Derek and takes a seat beside him. “Alright, where do you propose we start with this plan?”

“Well, what do we know about this woman?”

Derek tells them the little he knows and Stiles’ knee jerks against the table as he flails in surprise when he says her full name.

“Her last name is _Argent_?!”

Derek glances at him, looking puzzled. “…Yes?”

“Out with it, Stiles” Lydia pushes, her narrowed eyes fixed on him.

“My friend Scott’s girlfriend shares the same surname. They might be related.”

“Well fuck me sideways.” Isaac deadpans.

Lydia nods. “You should call them, find out if they can come visit you soon. We need answers.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Stiles agrees.

Guess it’s time to face the music with Scott.

 

#

 

Scott and Allison visit them the next day. Stiles had called him the night before to ask if he was up for it, telling him he wanted to apologize to them both in person for his previous behavior. Scott was all too happy to accept the offer.

Stiles surprises both himself and Scott when he steps up to his friend for a typical bro-hug, making the other boy smile happily, the tension draining from his shoulders.

“Hey man, I was so relieved when you called me yesterday, thought I had screwed up our friendship forever. You look…better.”

Stiles scoffs good-naturedly. “It’s okay for you to be honest and tell me I look like crap, you know.”

Scott opts for another happy smile instead of answering his remark. Stiles turns to Allison, standing behind her boyfriend uncertainly.

“Hi. I’m glad you could come, too.” He tells her, hoping the smile on his face is somewhat reassuring.

He introduces everyone to each other and they all take a seat at a large table in the main room. After some small talk, Stiles apologizes to Scott and Allison for the things he said and how he acted towards them. He admits it wasn’t really fair to either of them.

They both accept his apology and conversation around the table is actually quite nice for a while, even though some of them say more than others. The relaxed atmosphere comes to an abrupt end when Lydia folds her hands on the table and clears her throat.

“So let’s get down to business, shall we?”

Boyd actually rolls his eyes at her, muttering something like ‘smooth, Lydia’ under his breath. She doesn’t even acknowledge him, just turns her attention to a confused Scott and Allison.

“There’s another reason Stiles asked you to come here.” She starts.

“What?” Scott frowns. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Stiles winces, then sighs. “It’s kind of complicated…”

“Come on, Stiles, you can tell me.” Scott presses.

He takes a deep breath before he starts on his explanation. “Okay, so here’s the thing. Someone from Derek’s past is trying to harm him and…we sort of maybe think she’s related to Allison?”

Allison blinks, surprised. “Me?”

They nod. “Do you know a Kate Argent?” Lydia asks.

Allison opens and closes her mouth a few times, then takes a shuddering breath. “She’s my aunt, my father’s sister. I haven’t seen her in years, though. One day she just…disappeared.”

Stiles casts a glance at Derek, stiffly sitting beside him. He bets they can both imagine why she ‘suddenly disappeared’.

“Look, Allison…” Lydia starts, “you probably won’t like what I’m going to say next, but we’re pretty sure your aunt was the one who set fire to the Hale House a couple of years ago. She murdered Derek’s family and…well, now she’s back, apparently.”

Scott puts an arm around his girlfriend, who’s shaking. “You’re all crazy. Why would you say something like that?” she breathes.

It strikes a nerve, he can’t deny that. He makes an effort to keep himself from lashing out at her, but it’s hard.

“Look, you probably have no reason to believe me, but she was here, okay? She just walked up to me and Derek and pretty much threatened him right out. Then the dead kid from yesterday…”

He trails off when he sees the look on their faces. Right, maybe not the best thing to say to reassure them. He sighs.

“Just…the reason I asked you to come is because I wanted to ask you if maybe you know where she is right now? If you have any way of contacting her?”

“No, I…I didn’t even know she was back in town.” Allison mutters, drawing in on herself. Her expression is kind of defensive, which doesn’t bode very well.

Scott kind of surprises him when he speaks up.

“Hey, I don’t mean to be offensive or anything, but…if what they say is true, maybe we should try and find out where she is. She _hurt_ people, Ally.”

Hearing Scott standing up for him like this, Stiles has to admit that it feels good. It feels like there’s a chance for them to move forward from this. Like there’s a chance for them to be okay.

Allison nods finally, her expression changing to one of determination. “You’re right. If she really is hurting people…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anyone got hurt when I could have been able to prevent it. I guess I could ask my dad if he knows something?”

Lydia nods. “That’s good. You should probably do that. When you find something, tell us or Stiles’ dad. He’ll need to know anyway.”

Suddenly Brunski appears at their table, startling them all.

“Visiting hour is over.” He says sternly, a clear hint that he wants Scott and Allison to leave.

“Right, we were just leaving.” Scott says, standing up and sharing a worried look with Stiles. Had the man heard something?

Allison quickly stands up as well, eyeing Brunski distrustfully.

The man doesn’t look like he’s going to leave before Scott and Allison are gone, so they say a quick goodbye and promise to call soon.

When they’re gone, Brunski gives them one more evil glare before he saunters off.

“God, I hate that guy.” Stiles grumbles.

Isaac winks, patting his shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’s completely mutual.”

He just sticks his tongue out at him and leaves it at that, changing the subject. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

 

#

 

When Derek and Stiles finally get back to their bedroom, they immediately notice that someone’s been there. There’s the lingering smell of perfume and on Derek’s pillow lies a neatly folded paper card with some kind of crest printed on it.

Stiles takes a few steps to cross the distance to the bed, taking a closer look at it. He’s never seen it before, but Derek inhales sharply when he sees it, standing right behind him, as if he needs Stiles to shield him from the piece of paper.

Knowing he’s going to regret it, Stiles folds the card open and swallows the sudden lump in his throat when he reads the text:

‘ _See you soon, sweetie._ ’

It’s signed with a single lipstick kiss.

Derek rushes to the sink and throws up his dinner.

 


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience. I'm a terrible person for letting you all wait so long at the end of the story.
> 
> Anyway, with that said, enjoy reading :)

 

Stiles is seeing red, a burning desire to end that fucking bitch soaring through him. But unlike last time, it doesn’t freeze him. And also unlike last time, it doesn’t keep him from taking action.

He has the fleeting urge to rip the card into a thousand pieces, but then his ‘Sheriff’s-son-instinct’ starts to set in.  He could use it as evidence. He puts it somewhere out of sight, though.

Then he makes his way  to Derek’s side, stroking his back while handing him a plastic cup filled with water. Derek takes it with shaking hands, but manages to swallow the liquid without throwing it back up.

Stiles sits him down on the bed –  _ Stiles _ _’_ bed, for obvious reasons – and kneels down in front of him, taking Derek’s hands between his and looking at him with determination.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he says, keeping his voice gentle yet firm, making sure it comes across.

“We’re going to report this to Morrell or Deaton, call my dad and get another room. Okay?”

Even Stiles can’t stand to stay in this room, so he doesn’t care what it takes, they  _will _ get another room together. Because there’s no way he’s letting Derek sleep alone after this. He doesn’t even want to let him out of his sight if he can help it.

Derek merely nods, clearly not ready to speak yet and how can Stiles blame him? The guy’s life has been hell and now the  person responsible for it is ready to continue where she left off, her mind apparently set on finishing what she starte d years ago instead of just giving  up.

Well, not if he can help it. She’ll have to go through him, first. 

No matter what it takes.

#

 

 

He’s standing in Morrell’s office, Derek sitting silently on the large couch against the wall, staring ahead at nothing. He initially didn’t want Derek to be present for this conversation, because one of them would have to explain everything in vivid detail and he wasn’t sure Derek would be ready for that. If he ever would be.

Derek insisted to come in here with him, though. Whether it’s because he doesn’t want to be alone right now or because he wants to tell Morrell himself Stiles doesn’t know, but he’ll be ready for whatever scenario plays out.

“Boys?” Morrell says gently, shaking Stiles out of his thoughts. “Eventually one of you needs to start talking.”

He takes a deep breath, then slowly lets it out. “Right.”

After one more brief look at Derek, he decides to take the reins in the conversation, taking a seat next to Derek and holding his hand.    


He starts explaining everything from the beginning,  from how Derek met Kate to how he left Beacon Hills  for a while after she set the fire, then returning after her second attempt to murder them and Derek ending up in  Eichen  House, to the dead body from a couple of days ago and finally the card they just found.

Stiles hands it to her, seeing her expression darken before she looks back at them.

“What worries me is how she even got in here,” Morrell says. “There has to be someone among the staff who’s helping her.”

She shakes her head and sighs, leaning back in her chair.

“So now what?” Stiles asks when she doesn’t say anything else. “Do we at least get another room. Because we’re not going back there, I don’t care what you say.”

She drags a hand across her face, then nods. “Yes, of course. I’ll also call your father, tell him to come back here tomorrow. This needs to stop.”

\---

Half an hour later Morrell has talked to both his dad and doctor Deaton, who helped them to get assigned a new room without too much trouble.

Morrell tells them that his  father will be coming  in  tomorrow  to talk to him and Derek again, Laura and Cora coming with him. He doesn’t explicitly say so, but Stiles knows that Derek’s glad they’re coming. He needs the support.

Come to think of it, it’s probably more than that. He needs to know they’re  _safe _ .

So now it’s about three hours later, somewhere around midnight and they have a  new room  to move into. Lucky for them, they don’t own that much in this place, there’s just a few personal belongings and some clothes to move to the new room.

They don’t sort things out or even put things away, just throw them in a random corner and fall into bed together, finally settling down for the night.

#

 

Like most nights, Stiles randomly wakes up at God knows what ridiculous hour. 

He’s spooning Derek from behind and briefly tightens his hold on him, nuzzling his neck and planting a soft kiss on it, making Derek stir.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“ ‘s okay,” he murmurs drowsily,  settling firmer into Stiles’ hold and into his chest and oh – into his very inappropriate  _erection _ .

“Are you…?”

“Sorry,” Stiles croaks. “I’ll just…” he scoots backwards a little until his dick isn’t touching Derek’s ass anymore.

“N-n o, you don’t have to, I… ”

Derek huffs, then turns around in Stiles’ arms and moves closer again, his face shy and uncertain.

“What is it Derek? Tell me?”

He bites his lip for a moment, then speaks his mind.

“Is it very screwed up if I really k-kind of want this with you right now? ” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe a little, ” Stiles admits, stroking his cheek. “ Then again, we’re already in this nuthouse, so what the hell, right? ”

They just look into each other’s eyes for what feels like the longest time, the sexual  tension almost unbearable, but Stiles has never done any of this before and he’s not sure what Derek’s done but he knows he needs to take care of the beautiful boy in front of him…    


So he surges forward and attacks Derek’s mouth, who reacts enthusiastically and rolls Stiles on top of him, spreading his legs so he  can settle in between them.

Stiles loses track of time as they keep kissing, moving against each other slowly. He can feel how hard Derek is, how much he needs this, only their underwear and the thin fabric of their sleeping pants between them.

“Don’t stop” , Derek gasps. He sounds wrecked . And if Derek doesn’t want him to stop he won’t; Stiles knows he’ll give him anything he wants.

It isn’t much later when he feels  himself getting closer, his cock throbbing as he grinds against the boy under neath him.

“Fuck, Derek” , he groans, knowing he won’t be able to stop at this point even if  he wanted to .

Derek moans obscenely in his ear, his hands traveling to Stiles’ ass and squeezing in the most delicious way, the friction between their dicks kicking up a notch and  making him delirious with want.

He’s dying to cum, but he wants Derek to cum  first, so he moves his lips to his boyfriend’s ear, mouthi ng at the sensitive spot behind it like he knows Derek likes, then gently takes the lobe between his teeth and sucks.

“ _Stiles _ ,” Derek moans.  Fuck, he’s so close.

“Come for me Derek, ”  he breathes, and he does, his back arching  underneath him as he orgasms and Stiles finally lets go of the  tension in his groin and reaches his own climax, collapsing on Derek’s chest.

After a long stretch of silence, the mess in his boxers is becoming sticky and gross but it’s clear neither of them wants to move.

“Thanks,”  Derek whispers eventually.

“Any time,” he answers just as softly, dropping a kiss on his jaw. “We should take a shower or something,” he adds halfheartedly.

“Hmhm,”  Derek mumbles, but doesn’t make a move to stand up, just wraps his arms around Stiles.

“Seriously, we’re gonna regret this in a few hours …”

“Definitely,” he yawns, wrapping his arms tighter around him.

A yawn escapes Stiles as well  and he nuzzles into Derek’s warm chest, drifting off to sleep.

#

 

 

Apparently news travels fast in this place, because when he and Derek show up for breakfast the next morning, Lydia immediately wants to talk 'battle strategy'.

"We  have  to come up with a plan, Stiles," she stresses. "You and I both know that woman needs to be stopped. You can't keep living like this.  _Derek _ can't keep living like this."

His boyfriend huffs. " _Derek _ is perfectly capable to speak for himself."

"Well, then speak," she says, though she looks at least a little guilty. "Don't tell me you don't want her gone."

"Of course I do, it's just not that simple," he sighs. "If it was she would have been behind bars a long time ago. Besides, it's not like we know when she'll show up here again."

"Then let's find out!"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "I suppose you have a plan for that, too?"

"Naturally," she huffs, rolling her eyes right back at him. "We'll just have to find out who she's working with in here. There's no way she's doing all this alone."

Stiles nods, admitting she has a point there. He's just about to propose a plan of action when Isaac starts  _gro wling _ next to him.

For a moment he's confused, but then he remembers that Isaac has DID and that one of his alters is a werewolf.

"What is it, Isaac?" Lydia asks gently.

"Brunski is keeping tabs on us again," he says, voice still quietly rumbling. "He acts like he's surveilling the whole room, but he hasn't taken his eyes off our table for more than five seconds since the two of you showed up."

Stiles' blood starts boiling with the rage he's now so familiar with. From the minute he stepped foot in this place he knew there was something up with that guy. He fucking knew the guy couldn't be trusted.

Looks like it's finally time to prove his theory.

"Hey Isaac?" he muses, leaning closer to the guy. "How strong is that nose of yours?"

"Stiles, I'm a werewolf. What do you think?"

He smirks. "Perfect. I want you to do something for me."

The boy cocks an eyebrow at him, then smirks back. "I'm listening."

Stiles explains what he wants from him and lays a hand on his shoulder. "You think you can do that?"

The smile Isaac sends him is all teeth. "I  _know _ I can do that."

Stiles chuckles. Cocky bastard.

"Good, then all we need to do now is figure out a way to get close to Brunski without raising too much suspicion."

"Don't worry about that,"  he smirks, then jumps on their table and lets out a sound that Stiles  can only describe as a howl. He may not be an actual werewolf, but he definitely sounds the part.

He watches as Isaac jumps from table to table through the room,  Brunski's expression getting darker and darker as he runs after him. Finally he catches up with him and brings Isaac to the ground, containing him as he figures out what to do with the boy.

"He knows what he's doing, right?" he asks when Brunski still doesn't let him up.

"Don't worry," Erica surprisingly reassures him, "he does this all the time when we get bored. Brunski not allowed to harm him or anything because of Isaac's DID. All in all his behavior is pretty harmless."

She's proven right when Brunski lets Isaac up a minute later, giving him a warning before he sends him back to their table.

"So?" Stiles asks when he's back.

"So I'm never willingly sniffing him again, the guy  _reeks_ , I'm telling you!"

"Isaac focus, please," he huffs.

"Well, there's the smell of his breakfast this morning, a horrible amount of man-sweat and the faint scent of women's perfume," he frowns. "Which doesn't really make sense, because there's no way any woman would be interested in a guy like him."

Stiles nods, sharing a look with Derek, who by the look on his face has already figured out what Stiles is up to.

"She might be very good at faking it," he says.

Isaac frowns again. "Why would a woman do that?"

"To get access to  Eichen  House," Lydia answers for him, catching up as well. "It's not even that surprising she would use someone like him, actually. I feel like an idiot for not seeing it before."

"Don't worry  Lyds, you're not the only one," Stiles sighs.

"You two realize this doesn't actually prove anything yet, right?" Derek butts in. "I mean I don't doubt that it's him, but it doesn't get us anywhere."

"So we'll talk to my dad this afternoon and tell him everything," Stiles says. "He'll figure something out. In the meantime, we can come up with something to get Kate to confess."

"Oh, well that's easy," Lydia pipes up. "Once we figure out a way to get in contact with her, one of us can confront her and coax a confession out of her, recording the whole thing, of course. I think Derek would have the best shot at that."

" _ Absolutely not! _ "

It's out of his mouth before he can think about it, but honestly his opinion on the matter won't change. We are not putting Derek in the same room as that woman, let alone without any back-up!"

"And again, I can speak for myself," Derek states, scowling at him.

"Do you have a death wish?" Stiles snaps. "Because putting yourself in a room with that psychopath is suicide!"

"Stiles, Lydia is right! I have the best chance of tricking her into a confession, so I'll be the one to do it. End of discussion."

_End of discussion?_   Stiles doesn't even know how to react to that. Doesn't even want to right now, he's so fucking angry.

He roughly pushes his chair back from the table and storms off without another word.    
  
  


\---

When he hears the bedroom door open and close behind him, he kin d of expects it to be Lydia . The voice call ing his name decidedly isn’t hers , though.

“Stiles?”

He balls his hands into fists, refusing to turn around and face Derek. Maybe that makes him a coward, but he doesn’t give a shit right now.

“Stiles, please look at me,” Derek begs, then sighs when Stiles still doesn’t move.

“We both know this is our best shot,” he reasons. “I need to do this.”

“You don’t  _need_  to do anything,” Stiles growls  through clenched teeth. “She’ll have you right where she fucking wants you, are you really too blind to see that?”

“What the hell is your problem?!” Derek demands.

“My  _problem _ ?!” Stiles exclaims, finally whipping around to face the older boy. “I can’t believe you even need to ask me that!

Derek is still clearly annoyed with him, but his voice is a little softer when he speaks next.

“What are you so afraid of?”

Stiles’ jaw drops as he stares at him, stunned that Derek can possibly be so oblivious. It’s astounding, really.

“You really have no idea, do you?” he asks, shaking his head.

“Then  _tell me _ , Stiles!” he yells, annoyance getting the upper hand again. “Tell me why you don’t want me to do this even though you  know it will work! Tell me why you won’t let me fucking  _end _ this!”

“ _Because I love you_ _!_ ”

There. He said it. It’s out there and Derek heard it and Stiles watches the myriad of emotions cross his face as the words register in his mind.  There’s anger, confusion, surprise and then disbelief. 

“W-What?”

Stiles sighs, wrapping his arms around himself, but he keeps his eyes locked with Derek’s when he continues.

“I love you, Derek. And I’m fucking  _terrified _ .”

It’s quiet for a long time as Derek tries to process it all.

“Terrified of loving me?”

“No, you idiot!” he chuckles without any humor. “I’m terrified to lose you again.”

“Oh.”

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

Derek keeps  silent for such a long time that Stiles begins to wonder if he broke him. He's about to beg him to just say something already when Derek finally opens his mouth again.

"I don't want to fight with you," Derek sighs. "Let's just wait for your dad to show up and ask him what he thinks we should do, okay?"   


He could do that, he guesses. At least they're not yelling at each other anymore.

"Okay."

Then Derek opens his arms and arches one of his perfect eyebrows in invitation. Stiles crosses the distance in a heartbeat and lets himself be enveloped by his boyfriend’s arms, melting in the embrace.

"Oh, and Stiles?"

He tips his head back to look in Derek's eyes. "Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

#

 

 

He has to wait until visiting hour to talk to his dad. Stiles supposes the man has been  here longer, but was gathering the evidence, talking to Morrell and stuff.

In any case, now they're all sitting at a table in the far corner of the common room, including both of Derek's sisters.

Lydia has laid out her plan to trick Kate into a confession and Stiles has to slowly count to ten (several times) in order not to snap again when his father doesn't immediately disagree. He even seems to be seriously considering it.

It's infuriating.

"I'm not really comfortable with the idea of Derek confronting her, though," Laura admits and Stiles smirks at her. At least  _someone_  is on his side.

"I mean, if anyone should confront her, it's me."

"Why is that?" his dad asks.

"Because I'm one of the few people here who knows what happened  _before_  the fire as well as after it."

"You mean you know what her motive is?" Stiles inquires.

"Besides being batshit crazy?" she chuckles. "I have an idea, yeah."

"You plan on sharing that idea with us?" Lydia asks when Laura doesn't continue.

She sighs. "I suppose."

She glances at Derek and Cora before she continues. "Okay, so at some point after Kate and I had become friends, she started to crush on our uncle. Peter ignored her, though, and eventually she let it go and decided to set her sights on my little brother, instead."

Stiles drags a hand across his face. He knows how  _that_  story ends.

"Derek fell for her," Laura goes on, "but eventually realized that the age gap was too big and that what they were doing was wrong. Her love for him wasn't real. Looking back, I think she was in love with the idea of love itself, if that makes sense. Anyway, Derek broke up with her after that."

"So that's why she set the fire? Out of spite?" Stiles wonders.

"I don't think so," Laura says. "I mean, it probably played a role in it, but it wasn't the direct reason. After Derek broke up with her, she started to hit on  _me _ . Like I said, she was in love with being in love. I turned her down every single time until I'd had enough and ended our friendship. She kind of stalked me for a while after that, until one day I came home to find our  house on fire."

Stiles has known the woman is crazy from the beginning, but this is something else. He can imagine if a whole family turns her down, it could cause some sort of psychotic break. And let's face it: there's no denying that Kate is a total psychopath.

"So what do you think, Dad?" Stiles asks him.

"I'm not sure yet," he admits, scratching his chin. "I do know where she lives, though."

"You do?"

His father nods. "Scott called me to tell me Allison figured out her whereabouts."

"So why not just arrest her?" Isaac wonders. "Wouldn't that be easier?"

"Sure, kid, but it will also be very easy for her to get free, because we still don't have any solid evidence on her."

"Did you get the card from Morrell?"

"I did. We'll match the lipstick-print with her lips, but if it's a match that'll only prove she left the card on your bed. And the text itself isn't that harmless out of context."

"So we'll go with my plan," Lydia concludes.

"Seems like it," his dad sighs. "We'll have to come to a decision as to who's going to confront her, though."

Stiles' lips turn into a smile as a plan forms in his head. He knows just the person. It'll take some convincing, but he's always had a way with words.

He can do this.


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TADA! Here it finally is, the BIG FINALE! Oh my god, I CANNOT tell you how excited I am about this. First, because I can’t wait for your reactions, and second, because this is literally the first long fic I’ve ever written and COMPLETED and it feels fucking AWESOME! I couldn’t have ever done this without you guys though, so a massive shout-out to everyone who ever read, left kudos, bookmarked, subscribed to and especially commented to this fic, you’re all amazing and I love you!
> 
> Alright, so now I will shut the hell up and let you read! YAY!

“Are you out of your _freaking_ mind?!” His dad yells. “No!”

“Dad – ”

“Over my dead body, Stiles! The answer is no!”

“Dad, if you’d just – ”

“And don’t even get me started on what a hypocrite you're being right now, Jesus Christ!”

Stiles locks his jaw in frustration as he looks from his dad to the other people around the table, eyes finally landing on Derek…who’s clearly not happy about Stiles’ proposition either.

“Don’t look at me,” he says, expression sour, betrayed even. “I’m one hundred percent with your dad on this.”

He sighs. Just great. He knew it wouldn’t be easy to convince them that he should be the one confronting Kate, but this is ridiculous. They aren’t even trying to see things from his perspective. Which they should, because his plan is flawless, okay? Well, fine, mostly. But it’s still their best option.

“Would you please just listen to me for a second?” he begs when his dad has finally stopped fuming. “And I mean really _listen_ , okay? I’ve thought about this.”

His dad sighs longsuffering, but nods his head for Stiles to continue. He’s still obviously tense, though, so Stiles does his best to remain calm and collected, be the voice of reason and starts his explanation.

“Okay, so the way I see it, none of the Hales can confront her, because that will end into a guaranteed disaster.”

“Why?” Both Cora and Laura inquire immediately, while Derek just raises his eyebrows at him like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“ _Because_ ,” Stiles continues. “Think about it. The sole reason she’s back is to kill the three of you and something tells me she won’t stop until she’s succeeded. So no Hales.”

“I thought you agreed with Derek, though?” Isaac asks. “That he should do it?”

Stiles wants to strangle him for bringing that up. He really doesn’t want to argue with Derek over this again. And his opinion on the matter definitely hasn’t changed.

“I never actually said that…” he says carefully, chancing a sideways glance at Derek – who still looks betrayed, goddammit – before he decides to focus on his father again. He’s the one he’ll have to convince to get his plan rolling.

“Like I said, no Hales. The moment Kate finds herself alone in a room with either of them, she’ll go for the kill. Which isn’t what we want, right? We want to talk to her. Make her confess.”

His dad rubs his hands over his face and groans, and Stiles just _knows_ that his dad can see his logic. Tragically, he also knows that his dad really doesn’t want to admit to that.

“She’ll let me talk, though,” he continues. “And you know as well as I do that I can make _her_ talk. I can taunt her, maybe let some things slip, get under her skin until I can drag that confession out of her. I can _do_ this!”

His dad sighs again, finally looking at him. “Son, I have no doubt that you’ll be able to get her to talk, but…I’m worried about your own safety. What if she attacks you? You won’t be able to defend yourself.”

“So give me something to defend myself with,” he argues.

“Stiles, look around you. We both know there’s no chance for something like that in here. Honestly, I’d much rather just take you home with me, where I know you’ll be safe a – ”

“No way!” he interrupts, shaking his head vigorously. “I’m not leaving Derek here alone. Not a chance.”

“Gee, Stiles, we love you too,” Lydia mutters with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh shut up. You’re not the one with the metaphorical gun pointed at your head.”

“Fine, fine,” she placates. “Besides, I agree with you anyway. Makes the most sense.”

“Thank you!”

His dad huffs and rolls his eyes at him. “Okay, so let’s say that, hypothetically, you’re the one who talks to her. Then what? How will you know when she’s coming? When will I know when to step in?”

“Simple,” he smirks. “Accomplices.”

“Accomplices?” his dad asks, his voice bordering on a groan.

“Yes, accomplices. There’s two doctors in here we can trust. They’ll help us, I’m sure. You know Kate’s whereabouts, so you can tell one of them and they can tell me. Also, they can smuggle you and some backup inside so you can arrest her when I have her confession on tape.”

His dad looks at him for a very long time, before he finally sighs long and loud and nods.

“I can’t belief I’m agreeing to this,” he grouses.

Stiles refrains from pumping the air with his fist, but boy does he want to.

“It’ll work Dad, I promise.”

“I want you to wear a bulletproof vest, though,” he says, tone of voice implying that it’s non-negotiable. “And I’m getting you a wire to wear, too. I want to be able to listen in on every single thing that’s going on in that room, do you hear me?”

He nods his head. He can live with that. As long as he’s the one going in there, and Derek’s far, far away from it all, he can live with about anything his dad comes up with.

“I don’t know if this is a stupid question, but…” Erica surprises him when she speaks up. “How will she know where to find you? Won’t she be looking for Derek, instead?”

“She will,” Stiles nods. “In our bedroom, I’m guessing. But she won’t find Derek there. She’ll only find me.”

“Right.” His dad sighs for the umpteenth time. “So how are we going to convince Kate to come here and go look for Derek in your room?”

Stiles’ eyes wander to the corner of the room and isn’t surprised when his eyes land on Brunski, scowling at him. He lets a slow smile creep onto his face.

“I think our friend Brunski over there can be persuaded.”

“I want to believe you mean well, but everything about you screams ‘blackmail’ right now,” his dad groans, dragging a hand across his face again.

“You’re the Sheriff. You can basically do whatever you want if you feel like it’s the best thing to do in a certain situation.” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows at him. “Besides, your deputies won’t care. They love you, anyway.”

“Then they’re all idiots,” his dad mumbles, before he stands up and stretches. “Okay, where do I find those doctors of yours?”

Stiles tells them where and tells him goodbye for now, but not before he demands his dad gets Brunski on their side (albeit reluctantly) and to always have an officer on the guy so he can’t tip off Kate.

All there’s left to do for him now is stay away from Brunski, wait for new information from either Deaton or Morrell, until it’s time and he can end this for once and for all.

 

#

 

Stiles doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s pretty sure Derek is giving him the silent treatment. Which is ridiculous and totally unjustified.

At least from Stiles’ perspective, that is. He sighs and sits down on his bed, eyeing Derek warily as he continues to ignore him and ‘sleeps’. There’s no light on in the room, so he doesn’t know for sure what Derek’s face looks like right now, but somehow his silence speaks volumes.

“You’re mad at me.”

It’s a statement, not a question. Derek just grunts.

“Look,” he sighs again. “I admit that I’m being kind of a hypocrite here and I apologize for that, but I stand by everything I said today.”

He can see the tick in Derek’s jaw, but the guy still refuses to even look at him. And honestly, that just hurts. Stiles is trying to apologize here, but Derek won’t even acknowledge him. Can’t he see that all Stiles is trying to do is protect him?

Instead of snapping at Derek like he wants to, he deflates and slowly changes into his pajamas. He brushes his teeth and quickly washes his face, then walks back over to his bed. His bed, which he hasn’t slept in for…ever.

“Well…goodnight then, I guess.”

He swallows the lump in his throat when Derek still doesn’t say anything and gets under the covers. He should try to catch some sleep. His thoughts refuse to leave him alone for long, though, making him antsy. Even though Stiles’ bed isn’t that far away from Derek’s and so basically they aren’t that far apart, the distance between them is palpable and he can’t fucking _stand_ it.

“I’m just trying to keep you safe, you know,” he mutters.

It’s quiet for so long that he doesn’t expect an answer anymore, figuring Derek’s already asleep. Or still ignoring him. So he’s surprised when a few minutes later Derek finally speaks to him.

“I know that.”

Derek sighs, staying quiet for a while before he continues.

“It’s just…I feel like it’s my fault you’re putting yourself into harm’s way like this. This shouldn’t even be your mess to clean up to begin with.”

Stiles wants to call him an idiot for even thinking like that, but instead he goes with:

“I want to, though. Fix it, that is.”

Because honestly, even if Stiles weren’t the one to confront Kate, he knows he won’t be able to let it go. He’ll try to be helpful in some way and probably get himself into danger in the process anyway. Derek doesn’t say anything else and Stiles sighs, resigning himself to the fact that he’s sleeping alone tonight.

It’s minutes later when he hears Derek turn over in his bed, the covers rustling as he repositions himself.

“Stiles?”

It’s so soft he isn’t even sure Derek spoke at all.

“Yeah?”

“Get over here.”

Stiles crosses the distance between them in a heartbeat, slipping into Derek’s bed and cuddling up to him like he’s been longing to do all day.

“I seriously don’t want to fight about this anymore,” he mumbles into Derek’s chest.

“Me neither,” Derek admits, pulling him closer. “Feels like I’m letting her come between us, you know? It’d just be another thing she’d ruin for me.”

Stiles pulls his head up from Derek’s chest and gives him a soft, reassuring kiss. “I will never let that happen.”

Instead of answering, Derek only responds with cupping Stiles’ cheek and pulling him into another kiss. It starts out just as slow and sweet as the last one, but after a while it turns into something more heated.

He rolls on top of Derek, never breaking the kiss and lets his hands roam over Derek’s gorgeous body, slipping a hand under his shirt and coaxing a soft sound of contentment out of his boyfriend.

They keep kissing for what feels like hours, content to just make out and be close to each other, leaving Stiles feeling warm and content when he finally drifts off to sleep. 

 

#

  **  
**

It’s time.

A few days have gone by and Stiles has been trying not to think about all the things that could happen. He didn’t try to prepare himself, because really, how does one prepare for something like this?

Morrell has been in contact with his dad for the past couple of days and just like the man had promised, she’s standing in front of him with a wire and a bulletproof vest that’s small enough to hide under some layers of clothes.

“Okay,” Morrell says when she’s got the wire into place where nobody will be able to see it. “You know what you’ve got to do, right?”

He nods. “Wait for Kate in my room and stall her long enough to get her to talk. Preferably get a confession out of her, but provoking her to let some minor things slip might be good enough.”

Like hell that will be good enough for him, but he decides not to mention that to Morrell. She looks anxious enough as it is.

“Alright,” she sighs. “You should say goodbye to Derek, honey. I’m taking him somewhere safe in a minute.”

He nods again, watching as she exits her office and his boyfriend steps inside.

“Hey,” he smiles tentatively, trying to hide his nerves for Derek’s sake. “So I guess this is goodbye then.”

Derek just rolls his eyes halfheartedly and steps up to him to wrap him in a hug.

“You’re going to be okay,” Derek whispers, like he doesn’t want to jinx it, but needs to hear himself say the words anyway.

“Yeah, I will be,” Stiles says just as softly, leaning back to give Derek a quick kiss. “Go with Morrell. I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?”

Derek nods and gives him one last kiss before letting him go. “Okay.”

It’s time to face the music.

He walks back to his room, waiting. The knowledge that Kate is on her way is seriously messing with his head right now.

On the one hand, he tries to focus on his anger towards her. As long as he’s able to hold onto that, he’ll be fine, he thinks. It’ll keep him going long enough for his Dad to rescue him if things go wrong.

On the other hand…Kate is a fucking psychopath, which means she’s unpredictable as shit and there’s a definite possibility she won’t wait long enough for him to talk and do…something else, instead.

_Think positive, Stilinski,_ ’ he berates himself as he paces the room.

He wonders what is taking her so long. Did Brunski give her a warning after all? Did she suspect a trap and isn’t she coming in the first place? What?

Since he can’t stand waiting any longer, he decides to make the room as dark as possible, closing the blinds on the window and shutting off the lights. Then, he moves over to Derek’s bed, sitting down in the center of it with his back towards the door.

He figures Kate will appreciate the dramatics.

He starts doing breathing exercises to keep himself calm as he waits…  
  


and waits…  
  


and waits…  
  


He tenses when he hears the audible sweep of the door being opened behind him, then the click as it falls shut. It’s incredibly loud in his nervous state, his heartbeat thumping rapidly in his chest.

“Hello sweetie,” she drawls, voice like venom. “It’s been too long.”

It surprises him how easy it is to channel his anger. To gather it inside his chest and thrive off it, letting her words and presence fuel it until he feels strangely calm, ready to face her and destroy this bitch.

He gets up off the bed and turns around slowly, facing her and letting a smirk play on his lips as he takes in her expression.

“Hi there, Kate,” he says, voice remaining steady. “So good to see you again. It really has been too long.”

Kate looks confused for about a second before she slips that icy mask of hers back into place.

“What do you think you’re doing, kid?” she sneers. “Where’s the Hale boy?”

“Oh, you mean Derek?” he asks, playing innocent. “Haven’t seen him.”

“You don’t want to play games with me, little man,” she warns, taking a step closer to him. “Now tell me, where is Derek?”

“Hmm…” he pretends to think about it. “I’m pretty sure Doctor Morrell took him somewhere. Wouldn’t know where, though.”

She balls her fists and glares at him, but instead of snapping at him like he suspects she will, she turns around and makes for the door again. Which, no. He can’t let her walk out of here like that. So he decides that, if anyone asks later, it totally isn’t his fault for doing something possibly stupid. Desperate times, and all.

“You know, they warned me about you,” he starts, continuing when she halts to let him finish that sentence. “Told me you’re crazy and would try to kill me and stuff.” He shrugs. “But then I look at you and I’m like, nah, she wouldn’t.”

She turns back around, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” he muses. “You’re just a pretty face. Someone like you wouldn’t just go on a killing spree or something. Get other people to do it, maybe, but you? I don’t think so.”

She smirks and casually fetches a small, but probably very sharp knife from her back pocket. Stiles gulps. He didn’t think she’d be unarmed, but somehow he still didn’t see it coming.

“You think I’m pretty?” she mocks. “I’m so flattered.”

He steels himself for what he’s going to say next. There’s no way to go back now anyway.

“Yeah, I can imagine…what was it Laura said again, something along the lines of you being ‘in love with being in love’?”

Kate growls. “That bitch doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“No?” he questions. “Then why don’t you explain it to me Kate? Are you trying to tell me you weren’t in love with Peter Hale? That you weren’t devastated when he rejected you and decided to set your sights on his niece and nephew instead?”

“I’d shut my mouth if I were you kid,” Kate threatens, stepping closer still with the knife in her hands. “Peter was an asshole. It’s true I admired him, but instead of being grateful or flattered, he ignored me and treated me like a child. So I decided to get Derek to fall in love with me. It worked, for a while…which I’m sure you know all about, don’t you?”

He snarls, but she just laughs mockingly and continues.

“Anyway, his family convinced him that our relationship was ‘wrong’, so he broke up with me. Then came Laura, who I thought was my best friend, but she turned me down time after time, even going as far as to end our friendship altogether.”

Stiles watches as she plays with the knife in her hands, shaking her head with a smile.

“Stupid bitch should have known I wouldn’t just let her walk away from me like that. I was persistent, trying to make it up to her, but instead of listening to me, she accused me of stalking her. Not that I cared, of course. Until Peter interfered, that is.”

She turns to him again, eyes boring into his and it’s so creepy Stiles wants to look away, but at the same time doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction. He lets out a breath of relief when she continues.

“You see, Laura apparently told Peter about me ‘stalking’ her, so he decided to confront me about it. He told me to ‘back off and leave his family alone’ or he would ‘hunt me down and make sure I’d never touch anyone in his family again’.”

She smiles wickedly.

“But instead of being hunted, I became the hunter.”

She doesn’t elaborate, so Stiles feels the need to step on her toes a little more. He needs to make sure there’s no way around the evidence when his father arrests her. He needs to hear her _say it._

“Of course they didn't want you,” he scoffs, hoping to God his nerves don’t show. “I mean look at you. You're just...plain. Boring. There’s nothing that would make someone want you.”

“Oh that's rich, coming from the freak,” she bites.

“You know, I used to see it that way. But even though my so-called ‘mental disorder’ makes me stand out from most people in society, it doesn't make me a freak. It makes me special. It's why they will always love me instead of you.

Those words definitely struck a nerve, because he can barely blink before she’s in his face and slamming him into the wall, her hand around his throat and the knife poised under his chin.

“I am going to kill you little man. And you bet I will enjoy every single second of it, just like I enjoyed killing one of those freaks in here and hanging him from the ceiling. And let's not forget your sweet little boyfriend and that family of his, because trust me? I _will_ kill them all. You will regret you ever crossed me.”

Despite the obvious threat to his life and the knife at his throat, he smirks, because she just said exactly what he wanted her to say.

“No Kate,” he says. “You will regret you ever crossed _me._ ”

The next moment is a blur. His dad and his backup from the Sheriff’s Department barge into the room and overpower her, dragging her away while handcuffing her and telling her she has the right to remain silent, yada yada.

Then his dad is in front of him and enveloping him in a hug, which he gladly returns.

“You are such an idiot,” his dad scolds him, then hugs him closer. “But I am so proud of you, son.”

He blames the lump in his throat and the moisture in his eyes on the relief washing over him. His dad leads him out of the room and into Morrell’s office, where Derek and his friends are waiting for him. Derek immediately rushes to his side and takes him in his arms, spinning him around for a second and startling a laugh out of Stiles.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Derek mutters before kissing him, which again, Stiles gladly returns.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he muses.

Then he walks over to his friends and lets himself be pulled into a group hug, basking in the feeling of being loved and family that he’s missed for so long. He even wishes Scott was there, as well.

He sighs contentedly as he looks around the room at his bunch of crazy misfit friends. Sure, they aren’t rid of their mental problems yet, but they can breathe again. It’s over.

And for now, that is definitely good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand that’s it! Are you excited? I’m excited!
> 
> Also what I forgot to mention, it took me so long to update (once again sorry for that, but kudos for your patience) this final chapter, because I wanted to have the epilogue ready as well so I can post it soon after this one…I’ll update by the end of the week ;)
> 
> And another thing for those of you who haven’t noticed and, if by some miracle you’re like ‘hey, I want to read more fics of this girl’, I recently started a new work called ‘Saviors & Superpowers’ and I update that one EVERY FRIDAY (GO ME!) because I wrote it a long time ago so it’s mostly just editing.  
> But so yeah, do me a huge favor and check that one out as well, I promise it’ll be worth it! 
> 
> LOVE YOU ALL AND I WILL SEE YOU SOON FOR THE EPILOGUE <3


	16. Chapter 15 - EPILOGUE

 

“ _Fu…_ ”

Stiles chuckles softly at Derek’s sleepy mumbling, going back to the job at hand: waking Derek up with his rimming-skills. He licks another stripe across his hole, letting the tip of his tongue catch against the pucker, moaning in delight when Derek starts pushing his ass back against Stiles’ face in a silent plea for more.

He spanks his ass lightly to spur him on, then slides a finger in beside his tongue to open him up.

“Fuck, _Stiles_ ,” Derek groans, clearly getting with the program as he fully awakens, fucking himself on Stiles’ tongue and finger with shallow rolls of his hips and Stiles loves every freaking second of it.

He loves that Derek prefers to bottom, even though they’re both pretty versatile, loves that he knows exactly how to take Derek apart. Loves that Derek trusts him enough to let him do stuff like this and isn’t shy about letting him know how much he’s into it.

Loves that, even after eight years, he’s still doing this with Derek. His beautiful, funny, talented, kind, totally amazing, love of his life, Derek.

He slips his tongue and finger out, kissing Derek’s butt-cheeks as he asks: “How do you want me?”

Derek moans, taking his sweet time to think about it and finally answers with: “Want to ride you.”

“God, yes,” he breathes, pushing himself up and settling back against the headboard as Derek settles into his lap.

“Love it when you ride me,” he mumbles, stroking his hands slowly up and down Derek’s sides, then his thighs.

Stiles grabs for the lube, briefly fingering Derek further open with his slicked up fingers, then slicks up his own cock and lines himself up. His plans of taking it slow are flying out the window when Derek pushes himself down hard into Stiles’ lap, taking his cock in one go.

“ _Holy_ God,” Stiles moans, revelling at how tight Derek is.

“Derek’s fine,” he mumbles cheekily, nibbling at his earlobe.

Stiles bites down on one of his nipples in retaliation, hands moving to Derek’s ass and squeezing.

“Fucking move, you cheeky bastard.”

Derek chuckles, but complies, lifting himself up and down languidly, his rhythm soon picking up speed. Stiles reaches up to fuse their mouths together, hands still massaging Derek’s butt-cheeks as he bounces up and down Stiles’ cock.

After a while one of his hands travels towards Derek’s cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts. He plants his feet firmly on the bed so he can thrust harder into Derek, soon losing his rhythm as he pistons into him ruthlessly, still pumping Derek’s cock.

It doesn’t take long before they’re both chasing their orgasms with reckless abandon, the sound of Derek’s moans and the slick squelching sound between their bodies driving him right to the edge until he comes screaming Derek’s name, shooting his release deep inside him, Derek following him moments later.

Has he mentioned that he loves this?

“Love you hubby,” he mumbles about a minute later, enjoying their sleepy cuddles.

And that’s right. They’re married now. Have been for two years, actually and Stiles is absolutely sure that he’s the happiest person on the planet. And damn, a lot has happened since roughly seven years ago when they’d gotten out of Eichen House.

He finished high school, for once. Then went to college with Derek, earning his degree in forensic psychology (the irony isn’t lost on him) while Derek became the most awesome social worker known to mankind.

Then a little over two years ago Derek asked him to marry him, which of course he said yes to. So they got married, rebuilt the old Hale house and moved into it to start living the rest of their lives together.

About a year and a half ago, they had the inevitable talk about having kids. Although they both want them, they agreed to wait a little longer to start their own family. Instead Lydia – who’d also eventually left Eichen House, along with the rest of their friends – came up with the brilliant idea to turn the ridiculously large Hale house (which was honestly more like a manor) into a safe haven for ‘lost teens’. A place for troubled teenagers – like they once were themselves – to escape to when things get rough. A place to keep them off the streets, where they’d always find someone to talk to.

A place where they’d find safety and family.

The opening of their community home was exactly one year ago, which makes today a very, very special day for a lot of people.

“You know what day it is?” Stiles asks from where he’s draped half over Derek’s body.

Derek chuckles and kisses him on the nose. “Considering you’ve been excited about this for about a month, I think I can guess.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get smart with me, Bear. It’ll be awesome.”

Derek pinches his ass for the use of the nickname, which just makes Stiles laugh and pinch his ass right back.

“I can’t believe we’ve been doing this for a year already,” he sighs. “Remind me to buy Lydia something extra nice for her birthday this year.”

His husband mumbles an affirmative, then rolls Stiles off of him and gets out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Stiles whines, making pathetic grabby-hands at him and pouting.

“Taking a shower,” Derek says as he walks towards the adjoining bathroom. “We only have like four hours left to get everything ready.”

Stiles rolls over to look at the alarm on the bedside table, cursing when he sees that they have considerably less than four hours left. Lydia will kill him.

“You coming or what?” Derek shouts out to him from the bathroom.

“Bossy,” he huffs, but smiles fondly as he finally makes his way to the bathroom to join his husband and get their day started.

 

#

 

Derek has just finished his speech, leaving the small podium they built in the backyard while everyone around him is cheering and applauding, starting to mingle, most of the kids running off to either the tables of food or the soap slide they insisted on when Stiles had asked them about ideas for the one year anniversary of the house.

He looks around at all his friends and family, at all the kids that dug their own special way in Stiles’ heart. He catches sight of Scott and Allison, the latter pregnant with their first child. He sees his dad with Melissa and grins when Melissa steers the man away from the food.

All of the friends he made in Eichen House are here as well. Lydia, of course, is walking around looking fabulous and making sure everything is going according to plan. Erica and Boyd are relaxing in the shade, enjoying to just be together and watch the people around them.

Then there’s Isaac, who is making out with Cora against the side of the house. He shakes his head fondly at them. It had been a surprise when the two of them first got together and he honestly didn’t think it would last, but it has been three years since then and they’re still annoyingly cute together.

Laura, unsurprisingly, refuses to act her age and is having tremendous fun at the soap slide with most of the teens.

Two arms wrap around his waist from behind and he immediately melts into the embrace, humming contentedly when Derek places a gentle kiss on his nape. He turns around in his arms so he can give him a sweet kiss.

“I love you,” he says softly, cupping Derek’s cheeks with both hands and stroking them with his thumbs. “And I am so proud of us. We did this. Are _doing_ this, helping all these kids to get better by giving them a safe place here. Giving them a _family_.”

Derek smiles, wide and beautiful and leans in for another kiss, this time a little less PG than the last one.

“Ugh, get a room you two,” a voice jokes from behind them and Stiles leans back to look at the boy, immediately breaking out into a huge smile when he sees who it is.

“Benjamin!” he exclaims, dragging the eighteen-year-old into a hug. “It’s so good to see you again! How’s college?”

Benjamin is one of the first kids they helped in the house. He, Derek and Lydia had helped him get into college at the last minute, convincing him he was definitely smart enough for it. Like Boyd, he has Tourette syndrome and all his life people have been telling him that he’s dumb or stupid, leading to him neglecting school, because he believed them. Lydia, him and Derek wouldn’t have it, though and made him see just how wrong all those people were about him.

“Oh, you know,” the boy sighs, “lots of parties, not enough sleep, never enough coffee.” He shrugs. “It’s awesome.”

He claps him on the shoulder. “Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Then he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “So how about the love-department, huh? Any luck yet?”

Benja groans, leaning his head on Derek’s shoulder dramatically. “Why does your husband keep doing this to me?”

Derek just laughs and ruffles his hair affectionately. “Don’t worry kid, he just loves to embarrass people. It’s nothing personal.”

The boy huffs and straightens up, proclaiming he’s going to say hi to Lydia.

“Oh hey, she’s still single!” Stiles enthuses.

“I hate you!” Benja calls over his shoulder, but it sounds more like ‘I love you’ so he’ll let it slide.

He’s about to turn back to Derek when a small body runs into him, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist and beaming up at him.

“Hi Mr. Stiles!”

“Parker!” he hoists the kid onto his hip and gives him a proper bear-hug, threatening to squeeze the nine-year-old to a pancake and making him combust into giggles.

Parker had lost both his parents at age five and has been moving from foster home to foster home ever since. The kid has ADHD, so the parents either are complete assholes or didn’t know what they were getting into (which still makes them assholes) when they took him in, but it always ended up with Parker moving again. Until he and Derek introduced him to Laura and she fell in love with the little guy, pretty much adopting him on the spot. Stiles, of course, immediately proclaimed himself ‘favorite uncle’.

“How’s my little man doing?” he asks when Parker has stopped giggling enough to talk.

“Good!” he yells, pumping his fist in the air. “Laura told me to come and get you to the soap slide because it’s sooooo much fun and you should have fun too because it’s really your party today – you too Mr. Derek! – and if you won’t come she will make you.”

He flashes another huge smile at them both and jumps out of Stiles’ arms, taking his and Derek’s hands and dragging them to the soap slide.

“This isn’t gonna end well, is it?” Derek asks softly, unable to hide his grin.

Stiles nods. “Probably not. But hey, at least we’ll have soooo much fun!”

“Laura look!” Parker calls out when they near her. “I brought them!”

“Yay!” She claps her hands enthusiastically. “Now we can have aaaaall the fun!”

“Is she drunk?” Stiles whispers, leaning towards Derek inconspicuously.

Derek grimaces. “I wish.”

That startles a laugh out of Stiles and he shakes his head, deciding to take Laura’s weirdness in stride.

“Why don’t you show me how to slide on this thing, Parker?” he suggests, the boy nodding his head vigorously.

“Okay!”

And then he’s off running to get in line behind the other kids.

They hang out there with Laura and Parker for a while, eventually moving to the food and mingling with the rest of their guests.

Somewhere at the end, Lydia toasts on them, wishing them to keep doing what they’re doing so wonderfully and that it will keep making them happy for the rest of their lives.

And what the rest of their life will bring them?

No one knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END
> 
> Wow that felt good to say :) Okay, so other than my new long story ['Saviors & Superpowers'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3479873/chapters/7640912/) (formerly named 'All for one & one for All - I changed the title, please check it out), I have three drabbles/ideas waiting for me and I can't choose between them, so I want to ask you guys for help:  
> #1 - (oneshot) Artist!Stiles meets grumpy Photographer!Derek in Finland  
> #2 - (multi-chapter) Spoiled!Stiles is send away to live with Farmer!Derek/Single dad!Derek and his family on the farm for the summer  
> #3 - (multi-chapter) Stiles and Derek wake up in an alternate universe together where they're married and have kids  
> So what would you like to read? Let me know in a comment!
> 
> UPDATE: Voting is closed: #2 won by far and is called "Stiles' Ultimate Gift" > Read it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3736525/chapters/8282158)


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